ENIZ 


OF 


SERT 


&  1 

*  "  ",l  >t  i  If ;' 
«  iNi*Vy  " 

!if 


EDMUND  C,  JAEGER 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


PRESENTED  BY 

PROF.  CHARLES  A.  KOFOID  AND 
MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID 


\ 


NEST  OF  THE  BLACK-THROATED  SPARROW  IX  CACTUS 


Denizens  of  the  Desert 

A  book  of  Southwestern  mammals, 
birds,  and  reptiles 


By 
EDMUND  C.  JAEGER,  B.Sc. 

Member  American  Society  of  Mammalogists; 
Author  of  "  The  Mountain  Trees  of  Southern  California  " 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS 


Boston  and  New  York 
HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 
i\tUcrstbe  ftressi  Cambrtbge 
1922 


COPYRIGHT,  1932,  BY  EDMUND  C.  JAEGER 
ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


tTbf  fcibereifte 

CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
PRINTED  IN  THE  U.S.A. 


TO 
DAVID  DANIELS  KECK 

WHO  SOUGHT  OUT  THE  TRAILS  WITH  ME 
AND  WHOSE  COMPANIONSHIP 

AND  SYMPATHETIC  INTEREST  IN  NATURE 

HAS  BEEN  A  CONSTANT  HELP 

AND  INCENTIVE 


PREFACE 

FOR  the  past  ten  years  the  writer  has  been  an  al- 
most continual  saunterer  over  mountain  and 
desert  trails  —  a  constant  searcher  of  the  wild 
places  of  nature  that  he  might  know  intimately 
the  green  growing  things  and  learn  more  of  the 
life-histories  of  the  animals,  birds,  and  insects 
that  dwell  in  the  unfrequented  and  secluded 
domains  of  the  wild.  It  is  with  a  desire  to  share 
the  pleasures  derived  from  his  observations  and 
studies  that  he  sends  forth  these  sketches  of 
the  lives  of  the  denizens  of  our  Southwestern 
deserts. 

The  peculiar  physical  and  meteorological  con- 
ditions which  have  made  the  North  American 
deserts  have  likewise  had  their  influence  upon 
the  animals  that  came  to  inhabit  them.  The  en- 
vironmental forces  have  in  many  ways  so  much 
modified  their  bodies  and  their  behavior  that 
they  are  recognized  as  being  extraordinarily 
unique  among  animals,  and  the  desert  fauna 
stands  out  as  among  the  most  distinct  of  the 


M3771G& 


viii  PREFACE 

minor  life-areas  of  the  world.  Since  the  stories  of 
the  lives  of  few  of  them  have  ever  been  pre- 
sented in  popular  form  and  untechnical  lan- 
guage, readers  will  find  here  set  forth  much  new 
and  interesting  information. 

In  some  instances  a  didactic  style  of  presen- 
tation has  been  chosen.  This  has  made  it  pos- 
sible to  give  much  valuable  information  that 
could  not  have  been  included  had  the  effort 
always  been  made  to  write  a  "good  story." 
Writers  on  natural-history  subjects  have,  in  their 
desire  to  create  interest  and  to  bring  their  story 
to  a  fitting  climax,  frequently  conveyed  im- 
pressions concerning  the  behavior  of  animals 
which  were  false  or  misleading. 

The  information  concerning  these  birds  and 
animals  has  been  gained  in  large  part  by  obser- 
vations in  the  field  without  trap  or  gun ;  for  it 
has  been  recognized  that  it  is  possible  to  ob- 
tain true  ideas  concerning  living  creatures  only 
through  sympathetic  and  friendly  interest  in 
their  habits  and  behavior  under  natural  condi- 
tions. 

Rather  than  attempt  to  give  the  life-histories 
of  all  of  the  many  animal  forms  inhabiting  the 


PREFACE  ix 

desert  region  and  burden  the  reader  with  many 
repetitions,  the  writer  has  chosen  typical  species 
from  among  the  most  interesting,  noticeable, 
and  predominant  orders,  and  has  thus  hoped  to 
give  a  broad  view  of  the  life  of  the  region  under 
consideration. 

Thanks  are  expressed  to  Mr.  Robert  Ander- 
son, of  the  Riverside  Junior  College,  and  Mr. 
J.  C.  Odell,  of  Occidental  College,  for  their 
kindly  criticism;  also  to  Mr.  Wright  M.  Pierce, 
Mr.  Edwin  Avery  Field,  and  others  for  their  aid 
in  furnishing  many  of  the  illustrations. 

The  writer  recognizes  the  help  he  has  gained 
from  the  reading  of  the  technical  papers  of  spe- 
cialists of  animal  ecology,  and  if  in  certain  in- 
stances he  has  seemed  to  have  drawn  freely  from 
their  works,  it  is  because  he  desires  to  bring  to 
the  reader  the  contribution  they  have  made  to- 
ward a  fuller  knowledge  of  the  life-histories  of 
the  animals  considered.  The  writings  of  Dr. 
Joseph  Grinnell,  Dr.  Harold  C.  Bryant,  Dr. 
Edgar  Alexander  Mearns,  Dr.  J.  Van  Denburgh, 
and  Mr.  Frank  Stephens  have  been  specially 
consulted.  Thanks  are  also  due  to  Messrs. 
G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons  for  permission  to  quote 


x  PREFACE 

a  part  of  a  tale  entitled  "The  Coyote  and  the 
Beetle/'  from  Zuni  Folk-Tales,  by  Frank  Ham- 
ilton Gushing.  Much  of  the  matter  included  in 
the  chapter  on  the  California  road-runner  orig- 
inally appeared  in  the  pages  of  Saint  Nicholas. 

EDMUND  C.  JAEGER 

PALM  SPRINGS,  CALIFORNIA 
January,  1922 


CONTENTS 

THE  CALIFORNIA  ROAD-RUNNER  i 

THE  NEOTOMAS,  OR  PACK  RATS,  OF  THE  DESERT  23 

BILLY  BOB-TAIL,  THE  HERMIT  WOOD  RAT  39 

THE  SPINY  POCKET  MICE  55 

THE  CACTUS  WREN  67 

CATHERPES,  THE  CANON  WREN  77 

BETSY  BOUNCE,  THE  ROCK  WREN  85 

THE  ANTELOPE  CHIPMUNK  95 

THE  ROUND-TAILED  GROUND  SQUIRREL  AND  NEAR 

RELATIVES  107 

ELEODES,  THE  BEETLE  THAT  STANDS  ON  HIS  HEAD    115 

THE  MASON  BEES  123 

THE  DESERT  BIGHORN  AND  NEAR  RELATIVES  133 

DON  COYOTE  143 

THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  REPTILES  161 

THE  PHAINOPEPLA  171 

LATRODECTUS,  THE  POISONOUS  179 

THE  LE  CONTE  THRASHER  189 

THE  GNATCATCHERS  AND  VERDINS  199 

THE  DESERT  LYNX  209 


xii  CONTENTS 

THE  DESERT  WHITE-CROWNED  SPARROW  217 

THE  BLACK-TAILED  HARE  22i 

CALLISAURUS,  THE  GRIDIRON-TAILED  LIZARD  233 

SAUROMALUS,  THE  CHUCKWALLA  239 

THE  SIDEWINDER  2 *  ~ 

TESTUDO,  THE  DESERT  TORTOISE  255 

THE  VINEGAROON  26c 

THE  DESERT  HORNED  LIZARD  271 

SPILOGALE,  THE  SPOTTED  SKUNK  281 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

NEST  OF  THE  BLACK-THROATED  SPARROW  IN 
CACTUS  Frontispiece 

Photograph  by  Wright  M.  Pierce 

TRACKS  OF  A  ROAD- RUNNER  4 

Photograph  by  J.  Smeaton  Chase 

ROAD-RUNNERS  ABOUT  ONE-THIRD  GROWN  4 

Photograph  by  Wright  M.  Pierce 

ROAD-RUNNER  21 

TRADE  RAT'S  HOME  IN  A  ROCK-CREVICE  32 

GROUND  PLAN  OF  THE  TRADE  RAT'S  NEST  34 

AN  ARROYO  OF  THE  DESERT  MOUNTAINS  —  AN 
IDEAL  ENVIRONMENT  FOR  SMALL  RODENTS  60 

FLASK-SHAPED  NESTS  OF  CACTUS  WREN  IN  OPUN- 
TIA  CACTUS  •,  72 

Photograph  by  Wright  M.  Pierce 

ROCKY  GORGE  ENVIRONMENT,  COLORADO  DESERT: 
WASHINGTONIA  PALM  IN  FOREGROUND  82 

From  a  drawing  by  Carl  Eytel 

ANTELOPE  CHIPMUNK  FEEDING  100 

Photographs  by  Edwin  A.  Field 

A  DESERT  WASH,  OR  DRY,  SANDY  STREAM-BED: 
THE  HOME  OF  THE  LE  CONTE  THRASHER,  THE 

KIT  FOX,  AND  THE  COYOTE  I2O 


xiv  ILLUSTRATIONS 

DESERT  BIGHORN  (Ovis  cremnobates)  136 

Photograph  of  a  mounted  group  by  courtesy  of  the  Cali- 
fornia Academy  of  Sciences 

DESERT  LYNX  146 

COYOTE  AT  BAY  146 

Photograph  furnished  by  Biological  Survey,  U.S.  De- 
partment of  Agriculture 

COYOTE-PROOF  HENHOUSE  MADE  BY  THE  CAHUILLA 
INDIANS  OF  CALIFORNIA  150 

A  DESERT  CANON  174 

NEST  OF  THE  LE  CONTE  THRASHER  194 

Photograph  by  Wright  M.  Pierce 

YOUNG  LE  CONTE  THRASHER  206 

Photograph  by  Wright  M.  Pierce 

NEST  OF  THE  VERDIN  IN  A  CAT'S-CLAW  BUSH  206 

BLACK-TAILED  HARE  232 

CHUCKWALLA  240 

THE  SIDEWINDER,  OR  HORNED  RATTLESNAKE  248 

THE  PALLID  RATTLER  (Crotalus  mitchellit)  248 

A  DESERT  TORTOISE  WHICH  HAS  JUST  CRAWLED 
FROM  ITS  WINTER-HIDING  BETWEEN  THE  ROCKS   258 

VlNEGAROON  270 


DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

•      • 
• 

THE  CALIFORNIA  ROAD-RUNNER 


DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 


THE  CALIFORNIA  ROAD-RUNNER 

(Geococcyx  californianus) 

OF  all  the  feathered  denizens  of  the  desert  there 
is  none  that  has  such  an  amazing  stock  of  pecu- 
liarities or  so  many  odd  and  interesting  com- 
binations of  absurd  manners  to  show  us  as  that 
unique  bird,  the  California  road-runner.  He  is 
the  desert's  hermit  bird  wag,  as  full  of  comi- 
cal manners  and  as  resourceful  in  mischief  as 
the  fun-loving  jay  or  inquisitive  nutcracker, 
yet,  unlike  these  birds,  never  obtrusive  in  his 
familiarity.  And  how  he  does  love  sports! 
Every  morning  he  goes  down  on  the  trail  below 
my  shanty  and  saunters  idly  along  waiting  for 
me  to  come  with  my  pail  for  water,  well  know- 
ing that  I  will  give  him  chase  and  afford  him 
the  fine  fun  of  beating  me  to  the  corner.  Just 
as  I  am  about  upon  him,  he  leaps  into  the 
brush  out  of  sight  and  is  seen  no  more  for  an 


4         DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

hour  or  two.  This  born  gamester  has  been 
found  time  and  again  sportively  pursuing  the 
ends  of  surveyor's  chains  as  they  were  dragged 
along  by  the  linemen,  or  seen  on  golf  grounds 
running  down  stray-driven  balls  with  the 
eagerness  of  a  playful  dog. 

Byron  said  of  that  sagacious  and  celebrated 
wit,  Richard  Sheridan: 

Nature  formed  but  one  such  man 

And  broke  the  die  in  moulding  Sheridan. 

If  we  like  to  phrase  it  so,  we  may  surely  say 
with  equal  aptness  concerning  the  road-runner: 

Nature  formed  but  one  such  bird 
And  broke  the  die  in  moulding  him. 

Yes,  he  is  the  one  bird  you  never  mistake  for 
any  other.  The  bristle-tipped  topknot  which  he 
raises  and  lowers  at  will,  the  reptilian-like  face 
with  its  deep-slit  mouth,  and  the  long  tail  which 
so  unmistakably  registers  his  emotions,  make 
him  a  bird  of  most  singular  appearance. 

The  road-runner's  speckled  coat  of  feathers 
is  a  patchwork  of  varied  colors.  The  feathers  of 
the  head  and  neck  are  dark  steel-blue,  of  the 
upper  parts  of  the  body,  bronzy  or  coppery 


TRACKS  OF  A  ROAD-RUNNER 


ROAD-RUNNERS  ABOUT  ONE-THIRD  GROWN 


THE  CALIFORNIA  ROAD-RUNNER    5 

green,  changing  to  purplish  violet  and  green  on 
the  upper  middle  tail  feathers.  The  outer  tail 
feathers  are  steel-blue  with  green  and  violet 
reflections.  Everywhere,  except  on  the  rump, 
the  upper  parts  are  streaked  with  white  or 
brownish-white,  especially  the  wings  —  this 
white  and  buff  marking  being  produced  by  an 
odd  fringelike  fraying-out  of  the  edges  of  the 
feathers.  The  peculiar  bare  space  around  the 
eye  is  beautifully  marked  with  blue  and  orange. 
The  only  real  somberness  about  him  is  the 
brown,  tawny,  and  white  that  covers  his  breast, 
throat,  and  sides.  Yet  so  intricately  and  won- 
derfully placed  are  the  units  in  this  mosaic  of 
color  that  the  bird  appears  almost  as  brown  or 
gray  as  the  earth  on  which  he  runs.  It  is  only 
now  and  then  when  you  are  near  to  him  that 
you  catch  the  iridescence  and  regal  color  spen- 
dor  of  his  coat.  These  color  markings  are  the 
same  for  both  sexes  and  it  is  hard  to  tell  them 
apart. 

This  strange  cousin  of  the  cuckoo  has  earned 
his  name  from  his  apparent  delight  in  sprinting 
along  roadways,  especially  when  pursued  by 
horsemen  or  moderately  slow-going  vehicles. 


6         DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

In  the  picturesque  old  days  of  California,  when 
tourists  were  frequently  driven  over  country 
roads  in  tally  ho  coaches,  it  was  no  uncommon 
sight  to  see  this  bird;  his  way  of  running  a  half- 
mile  or  so  in  front  of  the  fast  trotting  horses  was 
long  remembered  by  the  sight-seers  who  never 
tired  of  telling  about  their  introduction  to  the 
bird  racer.  Another  common  name,  "  chap- 
arral cock/'  is  given  in  allusion  to  his  living  in 
the  chaparral  or  scrub  forest  of  the  semi- 
deserts;  and  he  is  called  "ground  cuckoo" 
because  of  his  inability  to  leave  the  ground  in 
long-sustained  flight. 

Formerly  the  range  of  the  road-runner  in- 
cluded the  grassy  plains,  chaparral-covered 
hills,  and  arid  mesas  from  Kansas  to  the  Pacific 
Ocean,  and  from  Central  California  to  Mexico. 
With  the  settlement  of  the  land  and  the  increase 
in  the  number  of  gunmen,  this  unique  bird  is 
rapidly  becoming  rare,  and  the  familiar  Maltese- 
cross  footprints  which  he  leaves  along  dusty 
roads  are  seldom  seen  any  more  except  in  the 
wildest  portions  of  his  former  range. 

The  road-runner  makes  no  regular  migrations 
and  is  seldom  seen  except  when  he  is  alone. 


THE  CALIFORNIA  ROAD-RUNNER    7 

Only  twice  have  I  observed  him  in  company 
with  his  mate.  Sort  of  a  Bedouin  is  he,  a  thor- 
ough son  of  the  desert,  and  impatient  of  the 
restraints  of  communal  life.  The  accusation  of 
being  a  vagabond  like  the  shiftless  coyote  can 
never  be  brought  against  him.  On  the  desert 
the  road-runner  exhibits  a  marked  preference 
for  mesquite  thickets.  He  fully  realizes  what 
excellent  protection  the  thorny,  low-growing 
trees  offer,  and  once  he  chooses  a  clump  of 
mesquites  for  his  "stamping  grounds,"  he 
seldom  leaves  the  vicinity  and  may  be  found 
there  year  after  year. 

Like  a  policeman  the  road-runner  apparently 
has  his  beats,  and  any  one  who  watches  him  day 
after  day  will  be  surprised  to  note  how  regular 
and  punctual  he  is  in  passing  certain  points 
at  definite  times.  An  invalid  on  the  Colorado 
Desert  recently  called  my  attention  to  the  fact 
that  a  road-runner  passed  her  porch  regularly  at 
12.25  o'clock  every  day  for  over  a  week,  never 
varying  by  more  than  a  minute  or  two.  A 
gentleman,  who  some  months  ago  put  up  a  new 
board  fence,  tells  me  that  a  road-runner  now 
amuses  himself  almost  daily  by  jumping  up  on 


8          DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

the  upper  rail  and  running  at  top  speed  the  full 
length  of  one  side  of  the  fence.  The  peculiar 
thing  about  it  is  that  he  invariably  does  it  at 
the  same  time  of  the  day  —  just  about  noon. 

Persons  who  have  tried  to  make  a  pet  of  the 
"pasiano,"  as  the  Mexicans  like  to  call  this 
lanky,  ludicrous-feathered  wit,  find  him  so  mis- 
chievous that  he  often  proves  himself  a  source 
of  endless  annoyance.  A  Mr.  Dresser,  of  Mata- 
moras,  referred  to  by  Dr.  Ridgway,  who  had 
one  partially  domesticated,  found  he  could  not 
let  it  remain  in  the  house  at  all.  "  It  would  hide 
and  steal  everything  it  could  carry  off  and  was 
particularly  fond  of  tearing  up  letters  and  up- 
setting the  inkstand.  It  was  never  caged  or 
tied  up  and  would  frequently  pay  the  neighbors 
a  visit,  always  returning  before  evening.  The 
bird  had  a  singular  antipathy  to  a  tame  parrot, 
and  whenever  the  latter  was  let  out  of  the  cage, 
it  would  get  into  a  rage,  and  either  go  to  the 
housetop  or  decamp  to  the  neighbors." 

In  spite  of  his  prankish,  sportive  nature,  the 
Mexicans  look  upon  the  road-runner  as  a  pur- 
veyor of  good  luck  and  a  very  desirable  neigh- 
bor, and  he  is  not  unwelcome  when  he  comes, 


THE  CALIFORNIA  ROAD-RUNNER    9 

as  he  often  does  after  getting  acquainted, 
into  the  yard  to  share  a  bit  of  grain  with  the 
barn  fowls. 

Last  night  I  threw  out  a  whole  panful  of 
"left-overs'1  to  the  birds  and  antelope  chip- 
munks. This  morning  almost  before  daylight 
there  were  signs  of  trouble  in  the  yard.  When  I 
went  out  to  see  what  was  up,  I  found  Betsy 
Bounce,  the  rock  wren,  and  half  a  dozen  of 
her  feathered  kindred  sitting  around  on  rocks 
close  by,  vigorously  scolding  and  uttering  notes 
of  protest  while  they  saw  the  morsels  they  so 
much  wanted  gobbled  up  by  a  road-runner. 
Playing  the  bully,  he  had  stationed  himself  in 
the  center  of  the  supply,  and  was  paying  no 
more  attention  to  their  rounds  of  scolding  than 
to  their  nervous  fidgetings.  Only  when  he  had 
picked  up  every  crumb  did  he  desist  eating. 
Then  with  an  indifferent  air  he  ran  down  the 
trail,  mounted  his  favorite  perch  —  an  old 
mesquite  hitching-post  —  and  began  puffing 
out  his  feathers. 

The  pasiano's  appetite  is  as  queer  as  his  looks. 
He  eats  everything  you  would  not  expect  a  bird 
to  eat.  Seemingly  bent  on  testing  the  edibility 


10        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

of  everything  that  runs  or  crawls,  he  swallows 
horned  toads,  grasshoppers,  mice,  centipedes, 
millipedes,  cutworms,  spiders,  bumblebees,  and 
occasionally  even  snakes,  wood  rats,  and  new- 
born rabbits.  Cactus  fruits  and  the  berries  of 
the  sumac  are  among  his  vegetable  foods.  This 
bird  has  a  penchant  for  meat,  and  his  flesh- 
eating  habits  sometimes  get  the  better  of  him  — 
for  instance,  when  he  finds  the  meat  set  as  bait 
in  traps.  Too  often  the  trapper,  making  his 
"  rounds "  in  the  morning,  finds  the  feathers  of 
some  ill-fated  road-runner  which  was  caught  by 
the  steel  jaws  and  in  turn  eaten  up  by  some 
coyote  or  fox  that  found  him  fluttering  help- 
lessly in  the  trap. 

The  road-runner  has  extraordinary  ability 
as  a  stalker  of  rapid-flying  insects.  This  is  at- 
tested by  the  fact  that  in  the  stomach  of  a 
road-runner  taken  near  San  Diego,  California, 
thirty-six  cicadas  were  found  —  insects  which 
the  entomologist  always  finds  very  difficult  to 
take  on  the  wing.1  Again  and  again  I  have 
seen  him  leap  in  air  and  snap  up  some  great 

1  University  of  California  Publications  in  Zoology,  vol.  17, 
No.  5. 


THE  CALIFORNIA  ROAD-RUNNER     11 

grasshopper  that  was  desperately  winging  his 
way  to  safety.  Always  after  the  bird  caught  his 
prey,  it  has  been  amusing  to  me  to  see  him 
standing  in  proud  pose  gazing  into  blank  space 
and,  with  a  soliloquizing  air,  losing  himself 
in  self-complimentary  contemplations  over  his 
victory.  In  the  meanwhile  his  long  tail  was 
generally  moving  delicately  up  and  down  like 
the  balance-arm  of  a  scale. 

Lizards  are  the  pasiano's  chief  fare;  these  he 
cleverly  picks  off  the  rocks  and  one  whack  of  his 
bill  is  sufficient  to  kill  them.  So  fond  is  this  bird 
of  lizards  that  he  has  received  the  common 
name  of  "lizard-eater."  Especially  during  the 
nesting  season  are  many  reptiles  taken.  The 
baby  birds  are  almost  raised  on  them.  Dr. 
Harold  Bryant  ranks  the  road-runner  as  one 
of  the  worst  natural  enemies  to  which  lizards 
and  snakes  are  exposed. 

Early  in  May  I  saw  a  funny  sight,  when,  with 
a  whir  of  wings,  a  road-runner  sprang  down 
upon  an  ill-starred  lizard  and  almost  literally 
pinned  him  to  the  sand  as  he  stuck  him  with  his 
bill.  As  is  usual  the  lizard  disjointed  and  sur- 
rendered his  tail  in  the  onset.  The  road-runner 


12        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

picked  up  the  lizard 's  body  and  would  have 
picked  up  the  dismembered  tail  also,  but  he  was 
at  a  loss  to  know  how  to  do  it.  How  could  he, 
when  his  jaws  were  already  pried  wide  apart 
by  the  reptile's  body,  pick  up  in  addition  the 
wriggling,  squirming  tail?  —  that  was  the  ques- 
tion. He  looked  at  it  puzzlingly  and  with  cu- 
riosity, and  tried  again  and  again  to  pick  it 
up  without  putting  down  the  rest  of  his  prize. 
He  seemed  to  be  suspicious  that  the  tailless 
reptile  once  down  might  run  away  while  the 
cast-off  appendage  was  being  picked  up.  He 
would  run  no  risk.  In  some  manner  the  body  of 
the  lizard  must  be  adequately  compressed  be- 
tween the  jaws  to  bring  the  ends  of  the  man- 
dibles sufficiently  close  together  to  hold,  in 
addition  to  the  body,  the  delectable  but  recalci- 
trant tail.  And  so  several  times  the  mandibles 
were  firmly  pressed  together  until  the  lizard's 
bones  were  well  cracked.  The  obstreperous  tail 
was  then  picked  up  and  the  bird,  holding  his 
head  high  in  air,  ran  off  with  his  wriggling  prize, 
under  a  mesquite  tree,  over  the  rocks  and  into 
the  brush. 

It  is  not  often  that  you  run  across  the  nest 


THE  CALIFORNIA  ROAD-RUNNER     13 

of  this  curious  dweller  of  the  deserts,  and  I  was 
filled  with  emotion  when  a  few  days  later  I  was 
led  to  the  nest  and  found  the  mother  sitting  on 
a  pile  of  sticks,  the  ill-made  home  placed  some 
seven  feet  above  ground  in  a  juniper  shrub. 
With  her  mottled  and  speckled  plumage  she  was 
so  very  inconspicuous  that  I  am  sure  I  should 
never  have  seen  her  had  she  not  jumped  off  the 
nest  as  I  approached  within  a  few  feet  of  it. 

What  interested  me  as  the  days  went  by  was 
not  so  much  the  rude  home,  lined  with  almost 
everything  from  a  snake  skin  to  bits  of  manure, 
or  the  yellowish  egg  within  it,  but  the  patient 
mother,  who  sat  almost  seven  weeks  on  the 
nest,  first  with  the  eggs  and  then  with  the 
young.  The  period  of  incubation  was  not 
unusually  long  nor  were  the  birdlings  slow  of 
growth  that  the  mother  bird  had  to  stay  on  the 
nest  so  long.  It  was  her  strange  method  of 
hatching  her  eggs.  As  though  she  dreaded  the 
ordeals  incident  to  caring  for  a  whole  brood  of 
awkward,  gawky,  gluttonous,  clamoring  young- 
sters of  the  same  age  at  once,  the  eggs  were  laid 
at  considerable  intervals  and  the  incubation 
began  as  soon  as  the  first  was  laid.  Thus  the 


14        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

first  of  the  brood  was  all  ready  to  leave  the  nest 
when  the  last  ungainly  birdlings  were  breaking 
from  the  shell.1  How  many  insects,  centipedes, 
and  lizards  disappeared  down  the  throats  of 
those  lusty  youngsters  is  hard  even  to  imagine; 
for  they  were  always  dreadfully  hungry  and 
often  fed. 

If  a  female  road-runner  is  approached  when 
on  the  nest,  she  generally  remains  quiet  until 
the  intruder  is  right  upon  her;  then  she  slips 
over  the  back  of  the  nest  and  flies  a  short  dis- 
tance to  safety,  but  where  she  can  still  see  the 
unwelcome  caller.  At  times  she  has  been  known 
to  permit  herself  to  be  caught  rather  than  for- 
sake her  young. 

A  member  of  the  Cooper  Ornithological  Club 
(Mr.  J.  R.  Pemberton)  gives  a  most  interesting 
report  concerning  the  actions  of  a  female  road- 
runner  whose  nest  he  found  some  ten  feet  above 
ground  in  a  sycamore  tree.  As  the  observer 
began  climbing  up  to  the  nest,  the  bird  hopped 
to  the  ground. 

1  Further  observations  of  nesting  road-runners  has  con- 
vinced me  that  this  procedure  is  not  always  followed,  but  that 
the  habit  is  peculiar  to  the  individual.  Often  incubation  is 
delayed  until  all  or  most  of  the  set  of  eggs  is  laid. 


THE  CALIFORNIA  ROAD-RUNNER     15 

" Immediately, "  says  Mr.  Pemberton,  "it  be- 
gan to  squirm,  scramble,  and  drag  itself  away 
across  an  open  space  and  in  full  view.  The  bird 
was  simulating  a  broken  leg  instead  of  a  broken 
wing!  The  bird  held  its  wings  closed  through- 
out the  demonstration,  though  frequently  fall- 
ing over  on  its  side  in  its  enthusiasm.  The 
whole  performance  was  kept  entirely  in  my 
view,  the  bird  gradually  working  away  from  the 
tree  until  it  was  some  thirty-five  feet  distant, 
when  it  immediately  ran  back  to  the  base  of 
the  tree  and  repeated  the  whole  show.  I  had 
been  so  interested  up  to  now  that  I  had  failed 
to  examine  the  nest,  which,  when  looked  into, 
contained  five  young  probably  a  week  old. 
When  I  got  to  the  ground  the  bird  continued 
its  'stunt'  rather  more  frantically  than  before, 
and  in  order  to  encourage  the  bird  I  followed, 
and  was  pleased  to  see  it  remain  highly  con- 
sistent until  I  was  decoyed  to  a  point  well  out- 
side the  grove.  Here  the  bird  ran  suddenly 
away  at  full  speed  and  in  a  direction  still  away 
from  the  nest." 

There  are  many  versions  of  the  story  which 
points  out  the  chaparral  cock  as  a  killer  of 


16        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

rattlesnakes  and  the  number  grows  as  the  tale  is 
peddled  from  mouth  to  mouth  of  imaginative 
story-tellers.  There  is  always  the  rattlesnake 
who  was  caught  asleep  and  surrounded  by  a 
circlet  of  cholla  cactus  joints  by  a  clever  road- 
runner.  The  rattlesnake  wakes  up  and,  realiz- 
ing that  he  cannot  escape,  bites  himself  and 
dies.  Many  frills  and  variations  are  put  in  to 
make  the  story  appear  real.  When  you  ask  the 
narrator  if  he  witnessed  the  incident  himself,  he 
always  says  he  knows  it  is  true,  but  "somebody 
else  told  me." 

"This,"  says  Major  Bendire,  "is  a  very  plau- 
sible story,  and  while  I  am  only  too  well  aware 
of  the  spines  of  the  cholla  cactus,  I  know  that 
such  a  hedge  proves  no  barrier  to  these  snakes 
and  that  they  do  not  mind  such  obstructions 
in  the  least,  passing  over  without  touching 
them.  I  consider  the  story  on  a  par  with  the 
generally  accepted  belief  of  hunters  and  fron- 
tiersmen in  the  West,  that  rattlesnakes  will  not 
cross  over  horsehair  ropes  when  laid  around 
one's  bed  when  camping  out.  I  was  a  firm  be- 
liever in  the  statement,  and  made  use  of  this 
snake  protector  for  a  number  of  years;  but  at 


THE  CALIFORNIA  ROAD-RUNNER     17 

last  my  faith  was  rudely  shattered  by  seeing  a 
medium-sized  rattlesnake  deliberately  crawling 
over  such  a  rope  which  I  had  stretched  around 
my  tent.  The  snake  paid  no  attention  to  the 
hair  rope,  but  slightly  curved  its  body  where 
about  to  come  in  contact  with  it,  gliding  over 
without  touching  it,  and,  finding  a  sunny  spot 
at  the  side  of  the  tent,  coiled  up  to  take  a  rest, 
part  of  its  body  lying  directly  on  the  rope. 
Since  witnessing  the  performance  I  have  natu- 
rally lost  faith  in  the  belief  and  have  wished 
many  times  since  that  it  had  not  been  so  rudely 
shaken,  especially  in  sections  of  the  country 
where  these  reptiles  are  abundant  and  where 
one  is  liable  to  find  his  blanket  occupied  by  one 
or  more  rattlers/' 

In  winter  as  soon  as  the  morning  sun  is  out, 
the  road-runner  may  often  be  seen  seeking  the 
rocky  prominences.  Hunting  out  some  well- 
sunned  boulder,  he  turns  his  back  toward  the 
rising  sun  and  opens  up  and  ruffles  his  feathers 
in  such  a  way  that  he  catches  every  warm  ray 
and  allows  it  to  penetrate  to  the  very  skin.  He 
then  presents  a  most  unusual  appearance,  look- 
ing more  like  a  mammal  than  a  bird.  His  like- 


i8        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

ness  to  an  animal  is  produced  in  large  part  by  the 
long  down-hanging  tail  and  the  full  exposure  of 
the  numerous  soft  down-like  barbs  at  the  bases 
of  the  feathers  which  in  their  fluffiness  look  like 
thick  fur.  Of  all  times  this  is  the  best  to  see 
a  road-runner  at  close  range.  Purposely  now 
he  seems  to  ignore  your  presence.  Unwilling 
that  you  should  disturb  him  in  his  seeking  of 
comforts,  he  permits  you  to  approach  until  you 
can  see  the  white  ring  of  his  eye.  Several  times 
I  have  at  such  times  quietly  crept  up  on  one 
and  watched  him  for  ten  minutes  at  a  time 
preening  his  feathers,  running  his  bill  through 
them  and  gaping  and  stretching  his  long  black 
jaws. 

There  are  three  things  in  which  the  road- 
runnels  poverty  is  great  —  his  sense  of  smell, 
his  power  of  flight,  his  power  of  song.  The  sense 
of  smell  in  all  birds  is  so  vestigial  that  at  best 
they  can  probably  smell  no  better  than  you 
can  when  you  have  a  cold  in  the  head.  Even 
vultures,  we  are  told,  must  depend  wholly  on 
their  sense  of  sight  for  the  detection  of  carrion 
and  in  no  degree  on  their  sense  of  smell  as  might 
be  thought. 


THE  CALIFORNIA  ROAD-RUNNER     19 

The  road-runner  relies  mostly  on  his  trusty 
legs  for  making  his  escape  when  pressed  by  an 
enemy.  He  realizes  what  poor  makeshifts  of 
flight  organs  his  wings  are,  and  like  the  ostrich 
uses  them  mostly  as  aids  in  running  or  jumping. 
It  would  be  a  mistake,  though,  to  say  that  the 
road-runner  never  flies  in  the  true  sense  of  the 
term.  Several  times  I  have  seen  one,  when 
hard-pressed,  fly  almost  an  eighth  of  a  mile. 
I  must  admit,  though,  that  the  act  was  awk- 
wardly done.  If  surprised  when  on  rough 
ground  the  fleeing  road-runner  generally  spreads 
his  wings  and  volplanes  across  the  gulleys.  If 
disturbed  when  on  the  mountain-side  he  may 
glide  downward  a  quarter  of  a  mile  to  the 
valley  below.  It  is  always  a  beautiful  sight 
and  a  feat  most  interesting  to  witness. 

The  pasiano  has  scarcely  a  vestige  of  song, 
his  only  emotional  utterances  being  a  strange 
whistling  note  ("oo  —  t")  ending  in  a  loud 
clatter,  chipper,  or  crackling  noise  made  by 
rapidly  bringing  his  mandibles  together;  and  a 
loud  "coo"  given  most  often  during  the  nesting 
season.  The  whistle  sounds  as  though  the 
breath  were  being  drawn  in  when  it  is  produced. 


20         DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

But  the  "coo"  seems  to  be  an  explosive  utter- 
ance. 

Many  times  during  the  spring  days  I  have 
been  awakened  in  the  morning  by  this  last 
peculiar  song.  So  loudly  and  vigorously  were 
the  notes  "cook  —  cook  —  cook"  given  that  I 
could  not  help  but  fancy  this  almost-human 
mischief-loving  bird  calling  for  me  to  get  up  to 
cook  for  him  his  breakfast. 

When  the  road-runner  looks  at  you  he  almost 
always  gazes  at  you  steadily  with  one  eye,  his 
head  being  turned  sidewise  to  you.  Thus  he 
gets  the  best  possible  view  of  you.  The  curious 
thing  is,  that  at  the  same  time  he  is  viewing 
you,  he,  with  his  other  eye,  may  be  scrutinizing 
and  recording  an  image  of  another  object  on 
the  other  side  of  him  —  he  watches  two  fields  of 
possible  interest  at  the  same  time.  Again,  if 
he  wills  it,  he  suppresses  the  vision  of  one  eye, 
ignores  its  sensations,  and  focuses  his  entire 
attention  on  an  object  of  interest  before  the 
other.  If  you  will  watch  him  gazing  skyward  at 
a  hawk,  you  will  see  him  with  his  head  turned 
sidewise,  one  eye  turned  downward  (its  vision 
repressed)  and  the  other  upward,  its  attention 


THE  CALIFORNIA  ROAD-RUNNER    21 

being  given  over  wholly  to  watching  his  avian 
enemy.  The  road-runner's  vision  is  a  hundred 
times  more  acute  than  ours,  especially  with 
respect  to  moving  objects.  He  sees  a  thousand 
things  that  our  blind  eyes  never  register. 


THE  NEOTOMAS,  OR  PACK.  RATS,  OF 
THE  DESERT 


THE  NEOTOMAS,  OR  PACK  RATS,  OF 
THE  DESERT 

(Neotoma  intermedia  desertorum) 

NOT  long  ago  three  prospectors,  new  to  the 
game,  decided  to  do  something  that  all  old 
prospectors  know  better  than  to  attempt. 
They  concluded  to  go  partners  on  living  to- 
gether, each  agreeing  to  pay  his  proportion  of 
the  expenses.  They  had  not  known  each  other 
long,  they  were  men  of  different  temperaments, 
and  this  in  itself  was  sufficient  eventually  to 
bring  disaffection  among  them.  The  "  falling- 
out"  would  have  been  postponed,  however, 
much  longer  had  it  not  been  for  the  part  a 
fourth  party  now  played  in  the  drama. 

Within  a  fortnight  after  the  men  had  settled 
in  their  quarters,  small  trinkets  began  to  dis- 
appear. One  man  lost  a  small  mirror,  another 
an  aluminum  comb,  and  a  pair  of  much-valued 
cuff-links.  Every  morning  now  more  small 
articles  were  missing  or  found  misplaced,  and 
the  men  became  sullen  and  began  to  accuse  one 
another  of  thievery.  They  argued,  scolded,  and 


26       DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

cursed  in  hot  words  and  threatened  each  other 
with  blows  if  this  constant  stealing  was  not 
brought  to  an  end. 

Finally,  one  morning  at  the  end  of  the  week, 
after  they  had  lost  some  especially  treasured 
articles,  they  had  what  is  known  as  a  ''genuine 
fall-out,"  and  each  fellow  declared  in  ugly 
words  his  intention  to  shift  and  live  by  himself. 
There  was  no  use  trying  to  get  along  further 
together. 

Each  of  the  prospectors  now  began  gathering 
together  his  belongings  ready  for  his  departure, 
and  as  they  worked  there  were  sullen  looks 
exchanged  and  grouchy  expressions  and  threats. 
One  of  the  men,  remembering  he  had  left  a 
bridle  out  under  a  mesquite  tree,  went  out  to 
get  it.  Several  times  before  he  had  noticed  a 
queer  pile  of  sticks  and  rubbish  piled  under  the 
tree,  but  it  had  never  occurred  to  him  that  this 
could  be  the  dwelling-place  of  any  living  crea- 
ture. On  this  particular  morning  he  paused  a 
minute  before  it  as  he  took  his  bridle  down  from 
the  crotch  in  which  he  had  lodged  it,  and  no- 
ticed something  bright,  shining  among  the  sticks. 

What  could  this  be?     He  ran  his  fingers  in 


THE  NEOTOMAS,  OR  PACK  RATS    27 

among  the  sticks  and  picked  out  the  shining 
article.  It  was  one  of  his  cuff-links!  "How  on 
earth  did  that  ever  get  here?"  he  said  to  him- 
self. Could  this  be  the  hiding-place  where  the 
camp  robber  was  secreting  his  treasure?  He 
picked  up  a  stick  and  stirred  further  into  the 
pile.  A  great,  big-eared  rat  ran  out  of  the  stack. 
As  he  stirred  up  the  mass  of  twigs  further  and 
came  to  the  inside  of  the  nest,  he  found  a  small 
box  of  medicine  which  he  had  claimed  one  of 
the  men  had  stolen  only  the  night  before. 
What  could  it  all  mean!  He  picked  up  the  box 
and  ran  to  the  shanty  and  urged  the  accused  to 
come  and  see  for  himself  what  he  had  found. 
The  men,  who  were  at  the  house,  were  curious 
and  suspicious  at  first,  and  all  refused  to  have 
anything  further  to  say,  but  finally  they  de- 
cided to  go  out  and  see  what  was  up.  They 
even  began  to  delve  into  the  mass  of  sticks 
themselves.  And  every  time  they  turned  the 
pile  they  found  more  of  the  missing  treasures. 
They  looked  at  each  other  in  astonishment  and 
more  or  less  shamefacedly,  and  then  finally 
ridiculously,  as  they  realized  the  amazing 
ludicrousness  of  the  situation.  Could  it  be  that 


28       DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

this  strange  and  curious-looking  rat  that  ran 
from  the  stack  of  sticks  was  the  culprit  and  the 
maker  of  all  this  mischief? 

There  was  yet  another  mystery  that  now 
seemed  on  the  way  to  being  solved.  The  men 
had  noticed  time  after  time  that  there  were 
small  piles  of  rubbish,  bits  of  manure,  and 
small  sticks  here  and  there  in  the  house,  and 
they  had  wondered  how  this  useless  stuff  came 
there.  They  would  clean  it  out,  but  always 
after  a  few  days  there  was  more  of  it.  They  had 
heard  strange  noises  at  night  of  animals  of  some 
kind  running  around  on  the  sills  and  on  the 
floor,  but  they  had  repeatedly  smelled  skunks, 
and  they  accounted  for  the  noise  by  the  pres- 
ence of  these  animals.  But  now  they  made  the 
sweeping  generalization  that  if  this  rat  could  be 
the  one  to  accuse  of  stealing  all  their  trinkets, 
he  might  also  be  the  one  who  was  piling  up  all 
this  rubbish  in  the  corners,  on  shelves  and  in 
the  woodbox. 

And  in  this  inference  they  were  not  wrong, 
for  pack  rats  are  given  to  this  very  habit.  Any 
object  that  is  small  enough  to  carry  off  and 
which  strikes  their  fancy  they  pick  up  and  pack 


THE  NEOTOMAS,  OR  PACK  RATS    29 

around  until  they  run  across  some  other  article 
that  appeals  more  to  them.  The  first  object  is 
then  dropped  and  the  second  carried  until  they 
reach  the  nest,  or  until  some  silly  curiosity 
prompts  them  to  drop  this  one  and  pick  up  a 
third.  On  account  of  this  inclination  to  pack 
off  things  and  gather  and  accumulate  them  in 
all  sorts  of  odd  places  in  dwellings  and  about 
their  nests,  there  has  grown  up  the  belief  that 
they  are  actually  given  to  bartering,  never 
taking  one  object  without  leaving  another  as 
"pay."  This,  however,  is  not  a  fact  and  cannot 
be  verified  by  experience. 

The  animals  which  go  under  the  name  of 
"pack  rats "  or  "  trade  rats  "  belong  to  the  genus 
of  rodents  known  as  "neotomas."  -They  are 
not  true  rats,  and  are  very  unlike  the  common 
introduced  house  rats,  both  in  appearance  and 
in  their  habits,  having  none  of  the  repulsive 
aspects  and  possessing  much  more  interesting 
manners.  They  will  not  live  in  habitations 
infested  by  the  common  European  house  rats. 
They  rank  among  our  most  intelligent  smaller 
mammals  [and  make  most  engaging  pets.  They 
are  gentle,  affectionate,  and  easy  to  keep. 


30        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

The  appearance  of  the  neotomas  is  always 
such  as  to  arouse  our  interest.  With  their  big, 
batlike  ears,  their  super-prominent,  big,  black 
eyes,  their  gentle,  rabbit-like  faces  and  sleek 
coats,  they  impress  themselves  upon  us  as 
being  really  beautiful  creatures. 

The  neotomas  are  confined  to  the  North 
American  continent  and  are  most  plentiful  in 
the  Southern  and  Western  United  States.  Dr. 
Mearns  found  as  many  as  thirteen  species  and 
subspecies  along  the  Mexican  boundary  alone. 
With  the  rattlesnake,  the  road-runner,  and  the 
burro,  they  find  a  chief  and  constant  place  in 
the  narrative  conversation  engaged  in  around 
miner's  camp-fires,  and  it  is  surprising  that 
such  alert,  mischievous,  and  interesting  crea- 
tures should  have  found  so  little  place  in 
Western  literature. 

According  to  their  environment  they  differ 
in  their  methods  of  building  their  nests.  Those 
living  in  the  deserts  and  scantily  treed  regions 
generally  select  sites  beneath  rocks  or  in  the 
vicinity  of  cactuses  or  other  thorny  vegetation 
where  they  find  some  natural  protection  from 
the  ravages  of  their  natural  enemies,  the  coy- 


THE  NEOTOMAS,  OR  PACK  RATS    31 

otes,  skunks,  rattlesnakes,  and  badgers.  All 
sorts  of  ingenious  uses  of  cactus  joints  and 
small  rocks  and  sticks  are  made  in  forming 
their  nests,  and  the  pack  rats1  domiciles  are 
always  homes  full  of  interest  to  the  inquisitive 
and  observant  traveler. 

The  mountain  species  and  those  living  in 
brushy  and  forested  areas  are  given  to  making 
huge  stick  houses  either  under  or  high  up  among 
the  trees.  Sometimes  the  stacks  are  four  or  five 
feet  high  and  are  scattered  so  thickly  in  the 
brush  of  certain  localities  in  the  hill  country 
that  they  number  between  twenty  and  thirty 
to  the  acre.  These  nests  represent  an  enormous 
amount  of  labor  on  the  part  of  the  rats.  Thou- 
sands of  sticks,  stones,  old  bones,  and  other 
oddities  such  as  empty  cartridges  and  the  like, 
enter  into  their  composition.  Sometimes  they 
are  composed  largely  of  manure,  or,  as  Dr. 
Mearns  found  along  the  Colorado  River,  of 
sticks  and  coyote  melons  or  gourds.  It  has 
always  been  a  marvel  to  me  to  know  how  some 
of  the  enormous  sticks,  bones,  and  fairly  good- 
sized  stones  are  carried.  Recently  I  found  a 
nest  in  Superior  Valley  on  the  Mohave  Desert 


32        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

with  hundreds  of  stones  in  it  the  size  of  pullet's 
eggs.  It  seems  quite  evident  that  they  could 
not  have  been  carried  in  the  small  mouth,  and 
how  could  the  neotoma  carry  them  in  her  paws! 
A  mystery  equally  hard  to  solve  is  found 
among  the  desert  .species  that  surround  their 
nests  with  the  joints  of  the  Bigelow's  cholla 
cactus.  This  species  of  shrublike  cactus,  or 
Opuntia,  has  needles  so  close-set,  so  impene- 
trable, and  so  formidable  that  it  seems  no 
creature  could  carry  the  joints  in  any  way, 
much  less  let  go  of  them  once  it  had  them  in 
its  grasp.  With  the  least  touch  they  penetrate 
the  toughest-hided  animals  and  hang  on  with  a 
tenacity  that  is  most  pronounced.  Only  those 
who  have  ever  tried  to  pick  up  or  even  touch 
one  of  the  joints  of  the  Bigelow's  cholla  know 
how  terrible  and  how  painful  the  prick  of  the 
needles  is.  Not  without  good  reason  the  Indi- 
ans declare  that  the  joints  of  this  cactus  jump 
at  you  as  you  come  near.  The  wood  rat  is  the 
only  creature  I  know  of  that  does  not  fear  to 
handle  them.  When  we  remember  that  these 
joints  are  larger  or  almost  equal  in  size  to  her 
own  tender  body  and  that  they  are  given  to 


TRADE  RAT'S  HOME  IN  A  ROCK-CREVICE 
THE  ENTRANCE  WELL  GUARDED  WITH  JOINTS  OF  BIGELOW's  CHOLLA 


THE  NEOTOMAS,  OR  PACK  RATS    33 

rolling,  it  is  the  more  unapparent  how  she 
keeps  herself  from  being  pierced  through  and 
through  with  dozens  of  needles,  especially  about 
the  mouth,  breast,  and  feet.  I  have  seen  the 
cholla  joints  piled  up  in  stacks  or  lodged 
about  the  entrance  of  the  burrow  in  such  num- 
bers that  their  total  bulk  would  have  filled 
several  barrels.  In  another  instance  I  noticed 
cactus  joints  piled  two  and  three  deep  over  an 
area  of  at  least  forty  square  feet  in  front  of  the 
burrow.  The  nest  was  situated  high  up  on  a 
bank  and  back  under  a  ledge  of  rock  in  such  a 
position  that  every  one  of  those  horrible  as- 
semblages of  cactus  needles  had  to  be  carried 
at  least  forty  feet  over  steep  and  uneven  rock 
surfaces,  the  nearest  shrub  of  cholla  being  that 
distance  from  the  nest. 

This  nest  was  entered  by  either  of  two  open- 
ings. In  order  that  I  may  explain  the  ingenious 
method  that  the  neotoma  used  to  protect  these 
runways  from  being  entered  by  an  enemy,  I 
have  drawn  the  accompanying  map  of  the 
space  in  front  of  the  dwelling.  An  examination 
of  the  figure  will  show  that  every  approach  to 
the  holes  is  most  carefully  protected  by  the 


34        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

spiny  cholla  joints,  barricades  more  effectual 
than  barbed-wire  entanglements  in  warding  off 
an  enemy.  Moreover,  between  all  the  runways 


vRt**FW®e* 


GROUND  PLAN  OF  THE  TRADE  RAT*S  NEST 

is  a  mat  of  the  awful  cholla  material,  and,  as 
Hornaday  well  observes,  not  the  most  foolish 
coyote  or  skunk  is  so  rash  as  to  jump  into  that 
spiny  mass  or  run  over  the  pavement  of  horrible 
cholla  joints  for  any  rat.  So  no  matter  how 
hard-pressed  by  the  foe,  when  once  the  neo- 
toma  has  reached  her  fortress  she  is  as  safe  as 
if  she  were  a  dozen  miles  beneath  the  surface 
of  the  earth. 

You  may  call  this  unique  utilization  of  spiny 
cactus  a  matter  of  instinct  if  you  wish,  but  it 
seems  to  me  to  be  a  downright  work  of  animal 


THE  NEOTOMAS,  OR  PACK  RATS   35 

intelligence  of  a  high  order,  and  every  time  I 
see  this  home  I  have  greater  respect  for  the 
little  creature  that  makes  it. 

Pack  rats  are  largely  nocturnal  creatures, 
though  occasionally  they  come  out  in  the  day- 
time to  feed.  They  eat  a  variety  of  foods,  but 
the  chief  fare  is  the  seeds  of  grasses  and  com- 
posites, and,  in  the  spring,  green  vegetation. 
They  are  not  good  gnawers  in  the  sense  the 
common  rats  are,  and  they  seldom  molest  food 
or  clothing  protected  in  closed  boxes  or  chests. 
It  is  the  mice  that  do  the  mischief  there. 

The  nests  of  the  desert  species,  which  are 
made  under  rocks,  generally  consist  only  of  a 
network  of  burrows  with  several  well-protected 
openings.  Those  of  the  mountains,  which  are 
of  sticks,  contain  several  small  compartments, 
each  with  a  distinctive  use.  Thus  one  nest  I  in- 
vestigated consisted  of  several  long  hallways, 
or  tunnels,  a  granary  wherein  were  stored  seeds 
and  green  willow  stems,  a  bedroom,  and  a 
special  compartment  used  as  a  storeroom  for 
excreta,  for  the  wild  rats  are  very  cleanly 
creatures.  There  were  no  odors  of  any  kind 
anywhere  about  the  nest.  These  stick  houses 


36        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

are  almost  waterproof  and  a  long  season  of 
rains  is  necessary  before  they  become  damp 
inside.  Prospectors  and  cattlemen  often  go  to 
these  nests  to  get  dry  fuel  during  wet  weather. 

The  Indians  are  very  fond  of  these  animals 
for  food,  and  if  they  do  not  use  them  now  as 
formerly  it  is  because  they  are  ashamed  to  eat 
them,  knowing  the  prejudice  of  the  whites 
toward  rats  as  food.  The  animals  are  captured 
by  setting  fire  to  the  mounds  of  sticks.  Even 
when  the  nests  are  fired,  the  wood  rats  are  as  a 
rule  reluctant  to  leave  them  and  many  perish 
in  the  flame.  One  would  think  that  the  smoke 
alone  would  drive  them  out 

The  Hopi  Indians,  who  call  a  species  common 
in  their  region  "kee-hua'  cahl'-a,"  account  the 
flesh  as  one  of  the  greatest  delicacies.  Physi- 
cians of  northern  Mexico  "  commonly  order 
broth  made  from  the  wood  rat  for  the  Indians 
and  peasants  whom  they  are  called  upon  to 
treat  just  as  our  physicians  prescribe  chicken 
broth  and  beef  tea."  Dr.  Mearns  tells  us  that 
he  found  many  charred  bones  of  this  rat  in 
the  ancient  cave  dwellings  in  the  Verde  Val- 
ley, showing  that  the  neotomas  were  prob- 


THE  NEOTOMAS,.  OR  PACK  RATS    37 

ably  often  used  for  food  by  the  inhabitants. 
The  wood  rats  are  preyed  upon  by  coyotes, 
skunks,  kit  foxes,  and  the  great  horned  and 
rabbit-eared  owls  by  night,  and  during  the 
day  they  must  fear  the  attacks  of  hawks  and 
rattlesnakes.  Recently  while  riding  through  a 
rocky  gulch  I  ran  onto  a  wood  rat  upon  whom 
I  showered  much  pity.  She  seemed  perplexed 
in  her  slow  movements  and  was  trembling  from 
head  to  tail-tip.  I  could  not  wonder;  for  there 
in  front  of  her  was  an  enormous  coiled  rattle- 
snake casting  a  spell  over  the  frightened  crea- 
ture before  striking.  I  gave  a  violent  whoop 
and  threw  up  my  hands  and  frightened  the 
neotoma  off  into  the  brush,  but  before  I  could 
dismount  and  secure  a  stone  to  kill  the  snake, 
he  had  crawled  into  the  brush  beyond  my 
reach,  following,  no  doubt,  his  intended  victim. 


BILLY  BOB-TAIL,  THE  HERMIT 
WOOD  RAT 


BILLY  BOB-TAIL,  THE  HERMIT 
WOOD  RAT 

(Neotoma  irftermedia  desertorum) 

I 

THE  wind,  that  had  spent  the  whole  of  its 
energies  since  sun-up  blowing  the  sand  in  great 
sweeps  across  the  oasis  desert  village,  only 
seemed  to  redouble  its  efforts  as  the  sun  sank 
in  redness  below  the  western  rim  of  the  San 
Jacintos.  It  was  no  night  for  even  the  hardened 
prospector  to  lie  out  in  his  blankets,  and  I 
sought  the  shelter  of  my  little  shanty,  hoping 
that,  though  I  must  literally  chew  sand  all 
night  (for  it  sifted  into  the  house  through  every 
crack),  I  should  at  least  be  able  to  keep  covers 
over  me.  t 

But  soon  after  midnight  the  wind,  that  had 
seemed  to  know  no  stopping,  dropped,  and  a 
stillness,  that  made  itself  conspicuous  through 
mere  contrast  with  the  wind-furious  sound  of 
the  early  evening,  now  came  on.  As  I  lay  there 
in  the  quiet,  breathing  once  more  the  clear, 
good  air,  there  came  a  break  in  the  silence. 


42        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

It  was  the  gnawing  of  rodent  teeth  I  heard; 
then  strange  sounds  of  rapping,  rapping,  rap- 
ping, almost  as  regular  as  the  beats  of  a  slow- 
moving  pendulum;  then  again  the  gnawing; 
then  more  of  the  mysterious,  ghostlike  rapping. 
I  pounded  the  floor,  threw  a  shoe  into  the 
corner  from  which  the  sound  seemingly  pro- 
ceeded, and  it  stopped,  but  shortly  began  again. 
Three  hours  this  knocking  was  continued.  The 
noise,  which  at  first  only  aroused  my  curiosity, 
now  became  nerve  racking,  impossible  to  bear. 
If  I  could  only  have  known  its  source  and  how 
it  was  made,  the  knowledge  would  have  taken 
off  the  apprehension  accompanying  mystery. 

A  few  days  later  I  heard  the  rapping  again 
behind  the  closet  curtain,  and  in  another  in- 
stant there  stood  in  full  view  of  me  the  deni- 
zen of  the  world  of  mysterious  rappings  —  a 
gentle-faced  neotoma,  or  hermit  wood  rat,  with 
great  lustrous,  super-prominent,  jet-black  eyes, 
set  like  enormous  crystal  hemispheres  of  black 
on  the  all-knowing,  all-wise-looking  face.  His 
beautiful  batlike  ears  were  as  large  as  quarter 
dollars,  rounded  and  well  set  up,  indicative  of 
his  alert  and  sprightly  manner.  His  body  was 


THE  HERMIT  WOOD  RAT         43 

covered  with  a  silky  pelage  as  soft  as  moleskin, 
brownish  buff  on  the  back,  clearer  buff  on  the 
sides,  and  with  white  underparts.  His  feet,  too, 
were  white,  and  the  tail  (what  was  left  of  it) 
bicolored,  dusky  above  and  whitish  below  — 
not  ratlike,  but  covered  with  soft,  short  hairs. 
The  mutilated  tail  was  really  the  only  detrac- 
tion from  his  good  looks. 

Like  the  three  blind  mice  celebrated  in  the 
rondo  he  had  had  his  tail  cut  off,  probably  in 
some  scrappy  feud  with  another  of  his  kind,  so 
that  only  a  stubby,  funny-looking  stump  was 
left.  And  so  I  called  him  my  Billy  Bob-Tail. 

With  a  queer  teetering  gait  Billy  now  made 
his  way  to  the  fireplace,  took  up  an  orange  peel 
which  had  been  thrown  there  with  other  scraps 
at  breakfast-time  and  proceeded  to  nibble  it, 
holding  it  the  while  up  to  his  mouth  with 
his  little  short  forepaws.  Shortly  he  took  up 
another  peel,  but  this  time  made  off  with  it, 
carrying  it  into  the  closet  and  down  through  a 
knot-hole  under  the  house.  In  a  minute  he  was 
back  again  and  got  another,  and  another,  work- 
ing in  all  fully  a  half-hour  at  his  self-appointed 
task.  I  now  began  to  realize  where  all  my  table 


44        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

scraps  had  been  going,  but  it  took  me  two  whole 
years  of  watching  to  know  how  Billy  made  the 
queer  rapping  sounds. 

This  was  the  beginning  of  a  series  of  visits 
which  became  more  frequent  until  now  my  mis- 
chievous Billy  comes  around  both  day  and 
night  to  carry  off  peels  or  to  inspect  the  con- 
tents of  my  wood  box  with  his  long-whiskered, 
ever-moving,  inquisitive  nose.  No  sleepy  head 
is  he;  his  bump  of  curiosity,  his  industrious, 
provident  impulses,  are  too  strongly  developed 
to  allow  much  dozing  in  slumber. 

At  one  end  of  my  poorly  floored  shanty  is  a 
knot-hole  in  the  floor,  to  which  Billy  Bob-Tail 
has  laid  claim  as  his  door  to  the  mysterious, 
dark  storehouse  of  his  beneath  the  house.  He 
spent  several  days  and  nights  rounding  it  out  so 
as  to  let  himself  pass  through  with  ease;  and 
there  was  little  leaving  of  his  job  until  it  was 
done.  His  industry  was  marvelous.  He  stayed 
by  his  task  hours  at  a  time  —  mostly  at  night. 
His  workmanlike  industry,  habitual  diligence, 
and  steady  attention  to  the  business  in  hand 
would  have  been  a  shame  to  many  a  man  I 
know. 


THE  HERMIT  WOOD  RAT         45 

The  job  complete,  Billy  now  set  himself  to 
the  task  of  carrying  everything  edible  in  sight 
down  that  knot-hole.  Of  oranges  and  lemons 
I  use  a  plenty,  and  there  were  always  many 
rinds  to  engage  Billy's  attention.  The  total 
bulk  of  peelings  which  disappeared  down  that 
knot-hole  must  number  bushels.  I  have  watched 
him  work  for  two  hours  at  a  time,  toiling  with- 
out any  rest,  except  occasionally,  when  he 
stopped  to  nibble  at  an  orange  peel  —  lunch- 
hour  during  work-time. 

Now  it  was  in  connection  with  this  carting 
away  of  fruit  peels  down  that  knot-hole  that  I 
learned  to  know  that  a  wood  rat  thinks,  im- 
agines, plans,  and  invents  just  like  human 
beings.  The  guidance  of  instinct  can  never 
account  for  Billy's  actions  when  he  had  engi- 
neering problems  to  solve  or  had  questions  of 
mechanics  proposed  to  him. 

There  were  a  good  many  grapefruit  peels 
(Billy  liked  the  bitter  things)  which  were  so  very 
large  that  they  would  not  go  easily  through  the 
hole.  Sometimes,  when  the  clever  wood  rat 
could  not  get  them  down  by  pushing,  he  would 
sit  on  his  haunches,  take  the  peel  in  his  paws, 


46        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

and  nibble  around  the  edges  until  it  was  small 
enough.  Or,  again,  I  have  seen  him  clip  one 
right  in  two  and  then  take  each  half  down  sepa- 
rately in  the  ordinary  way  by  carrying  them 
in  his  mouth.  But  he  had  one  trick  of  get- 
ting parings  down  the  hole  that  required  in  its 
execution  nothing  less  than  the  nicest  cunning 
and  real  acts  of  judgment  and  invention  —  in 
other  words,  mental  processes  of  an  order  ac- 
credited to  human  beings. 

One  early,  rainy  morning  I  was  lying  on  my 
cot  with  my  face  turned  to  one  side  watching 
my  industrious  pet,  when  I  saw  him  bring  up  to 
the  hole  an  extra  large  orange  peel.  This  he 
tried  to  put  through.  It  would  not  go  down,  in 
spite  of  his  repeated  attempts.  Billy  stopped 
and  pondered.  A  sudden  thought  came  to  him. 
He  dropped  his  peel  beside  the  hole,  went  down 
the  hole  himself,  pushed  his  head  up  through  it, 
seized  the  orange  peel,  and  pulled  it  through. 
That  was  invention,  the  product  of  reason, 
imagination,  and  judgment  —  and  Billy  a  wood 
rat  too. 

I  have  seen  him  do  more.  I  have  watched  him 
carry  a  number  of  edibles  of  large  size  —  bread 


THE  HERMIT  WOOD  RAT         47 

crusts  and  the  like  —  up  to  the  hole,  leave  his 
collection,  run  out  of  the  door  at  the  other  end 
of  the  house  where  he  had  an  entrance  beneath 
it,  go  under  and  put  his  head  up  through  the 
ever-handy  knot-hole,  and  then  pull  the  whole 
supply  of  crusts  and  what-nots  beneath.  Why 
he  made  the  roundabout  trips  to  get  beneath 
the  open  hole  I  do  not  know.  Probably  in  our 
exact  way  of  thinking  it  was  a  waste  of  energy, 
not  efficient.  But  there  is  one  thing  that  im- 
presses me  more.  Billy  showed  that  he  could 
carry  a  thought  and  hold  his  attention  uninter- 
ruptedly to  the  task  in  hand. 

More  surprising  still  to  me  was  the  help 
Billy  took  from  my  hand  when  he  was  put  to 
hard  straits  to  get  an  extra  large  orange  peel 
through  the  knot-hole.  Many,  many  times  have 
I  pushed  while  he  pulled.  Here  was  the  accept- 
ance of  cooperation,  a  trait  befitting  human 
beings  again. 

Not  always  did  this  wood  rat  work  so  pur- 
posefully. Sometimes  his  work  showed  more 
industry  than  judgment.  There  were,  it  seemed 
to  me,  times  of  "much  ado  about  nothing," 
—  for  instance,  when  he  carried  all  the  little 


48        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

greasewood  sticks  out  of  the  fireplace  and 
stacked  them  up  one  night  in  a  corner,  or  when 
he  carried  a  lot  of  black,  charcoaly  ashes  off 
behind  the  cupboard.  I  can't  see  much  intelli- 
gence there  —  just  the  instinct  to  accumulate 
keeping  him  busy. 

It  is  surprising  what  this  instinct  to  pack  off 
things  will  induce  wood  rats  to  do.  I  have  had 
them  carry  off  a  whole  boxful  of  trinkets,  drag 
my  spoons  off  under  rocks,  bring  into  the  house 
quantities  of  sticks,  seeds,  and  manure,  and 
litter  up  the  house  with  quantities  of  paper 
scraps.  A  lot  of  the  storing  of  orange  peels  was 
useless  endeavor;  for  Billy  has  carried  away 
during  these  two  years  more  orange  peels  than 
he  and  his  family  could  eat  in  four.  Store, 
store,  store;  that  is  the  ever-compelling,  ever- 
active,  ever-prompting  thought  of  his  little 
busy  mind,  and  the  industriously  inclined  body 
never  tires  doing  the  brain's  bidding.  These 
things,  to  which  his  provident  nature  directs 
his  activities,  are  sometimes  carried  great  dis- 
tances to  be  stored.  An  informant  tells  me  that 
during  one  summer  when  she  was  absent  from 
her  desert  home,  some  pack  rats  carried  the 


THE  HERMIT  WOOD  RAT         49 

entire  contents  of  a  box  of  lump  starch  —  some 
thirty  pounds  —  from  the  upstairs  to  the  base- 
ment; that  others  carried  grain  from  the  barn 
over  a  hundred  yards  away  and  deposited  it  in 
her  writing-desk. 

n 

SPRINGTIME  on  the  deserts  comes  with  a  rush. 
Seeds  sprout;  plants  grow,  blossom,  and  fruit 
in  a  surprisingly  short  time.  The  animals, 
which  have  been  more  or  less  inactive  because 
of  lack  of  food,  cold  nights  and  days  during 
winter,  now  wake  to  the  new  activities  of 
harvesting  food  and  raising  the  young.  Since 
the  season  is  a  short  one,  they  must  work  with 
intensity  and  enterprise. 

This  is  the  time  when  the  mice,  wood  rats, 
and  antelope  chipmunks  are  likely  to  plunder 
your  bed  for  wool  and  feathers  to  line  their 
nests.  I  have  learned  from  experience  that  any 
precautions  you  can  now  take  to  secure  the  bed- 
clothes from  their  attacks  are  none  too  good; 
for  these  small  rodents  now  get  into  everything 
left  open  to  their  ravages.  Billy  Bob-Tail 
played  "old  gooseberry"  with  my  mattress; 


50        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

and  this  while  I  lay  in  bed.  A  half-dozen  times 
I  was  awakened  in  the  night  by  his  tugging  at 
the  cotton  padding.  By  pounding  on  the  floor 
each  time  I  frightened  him  off,  but  the  fluffy 
stuff  inside  the  mattress  was  so  incomparably 
wonderful  as  bedding  for  baby  pack  rats  that 
he  just  could  n't  keep  away.  Never  mind,  old 
Billy;  two  pounds  of  cotton  you  owe  me  and 
the  price  of  a  new  mattress,  maybe.  After  this 
I  '11  hang  my  bedding  on  the  clothes  line  by  day, 
and  see  that  the  cot  is  perched  at  night  high  on 
the  rocks  far  beyond  your  travels. 

My  hermit  wood  rat's  mate  seldom  showed 
herself,  and  when  she  did  come  around,  she  was 
exceedingly  shy  and  retiring.  From  the  nature 
and  extent  of  Billy's  activities  I  must  presume 
that  among  these  humble  rodent  folk  the  males 
supply  most  of  the  material  for  the  nest,  and 
that  they  take  some  real  interest  in  the  rearing 
of  the  young,  the  number  of  which  is  generally 
three  to  five. 

The  home  was  made  under  a  large  rock  near 
the  corner  of  my  dwelling  where  I  could  care- 
fully watch  the  activities  about  the  nest.  Dur- 
ing the  early  life  of  the  baby  neotomas  the 


THE  HERMIT  WOOD  RAT          51 

mother  stayed  closely  at  home.  The  little 
creatures  kept  themselves  attached  to  the 
nipples  of  the  mother,  and,  when  disturbed, 
they  still  maintained  their  hold  and  allowed  her 
to  drag  them  about  as  she  ran  —  always  a 
funny  and  interesting  sight.  Mr.  A.  H.  Alver- 
son  of  San  Bernardino,  California,  quoted  by 
Stephens  in  his  "  Mammals  of  California," 
speaking  of  a  family  of  neotomas  he  had  in  cap- 
tivity, says  he  noticed  that  sometimes,  when 
the  mother  desired  to  move  and  free  herself 
from  her  babies,  "she  would  turn  round  and 
round  and  seem  to  twist  them  loose  in  a  pile 
where  they  would  lie  quietly  until  they  felt  her 
return;  then  they  would  at  once  attach  to  the 
teats."  Speaking  further  of  the  young  after 
three  weeks,  he  says:  "They  were  very  playful, 
running  about  most  of  the  time,  but  when  too 
venturesome  the  mother  takes  them  in  her 
mouth  and  lifts  them  bodily  back  to  the  nest 
in  the  corner.  Sometimes  she  lifts  them  by  the 
neck,  but  mostly  by  the  middle  of  the  side. 
After  playing  and  eating,  the  mother  and  young 
make  their  toilet,  the  mother  doing  most  of  it 
for  them,  but  the  young  try  to  learn;  then  the 
young  attach  to  the  mammae  and  all  sleep." 


52        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

While  my  pet  neotomas  were  busy  at  home- 
making,  a  third  came  about  the  premises,  this 
one  a  sleek,  youthful-looking  fellow,  but  not 
so  tame  as  my  Billy.  Animals  like  human  be- 
ings are  possessed  of  individuality,  and  I  was 
anxious  to  watch  the  new  tenant  of  my  quarters 
to  see  what  new  contributions  he  would  make 
to  my  knowledge  of  wood  rats.  One  morning 
while  I  was  seated  at  my  table  writing  I  heard  a 
slight  noise,  and,  looking  down,  saw  my  new 
neotoma  approaching  a  crust  of  bread  I  had 
placed  under  the  table  for  him.  What  struck 
me  now  to  do  it  I  do  not  know,  but  intuitively 
I  quickly  shuffled  my  feet  and  sent  the  wood 
rat  flying  with  fright  across  the  room.  He  went 
down  Billy's  knot-hole,  but  soon  came  out  again 
determined  to  get  the  bread.  Having  plucked 
up  courage  he  carefully  approached  the  table 
again.  But  again  I  shuffled  my  feet  and  he  as 
quickly  retreated,  went  halfway  down  the  hole, 
and  turned  back.  He  now  sat  still  and  peered 
at  me  from  out  his  big,  lustrous  eyes,  wiggled 
his  whiskers  impatiently,  and  gave  a  saucy 
stamp  with  his  hind  feet.  I  could  hardly  believe 
my  ears.  It  was  the  same  noise  Billy  had  made 


THE  HERMIT  WOOD  RAT         53 

that  night  of  the  wind-storm.  I  shuffled  my  feet 
again,  and  again  the  neotoma  raised  the  soles 
of  his  long-pawed  feet  and  brought  them  down 
on  the  floor  with  a  determined  rap. 

Oh,  what  was  now  my  delight!  For  two 
whole  years  I  had  been  guessing,  observing, 
inquiring,  and  writing  letters  to  scientific  in- 
stitutions and  naturalists  trying  to  find  out 
how  wood  rats  did  their  pounding,  and  no 
one  seemed  to  be  able  to  tell  me.  Now  I  knew 
through  my  own  observations.  It  was  the  de- 
light accompanying  discovery.  My  new  guest 
had  solved  the  riddle. 

This  stamping  or  pounding  seems  to  be  an 
expression  of  strong  emotional  states  of  mind 
indulged  in  when  angry,  impatient,  or  defiant. 
Rabbits  pound  in  similar  manner  under  like 
emotional  states.  The  wood  rats  and  the  rab- 
bits strike  with  the  soles  of  both  feet  at  the 
same  time.  Skunks  and  squirrels,  however,  who 
also  pound,  strike  with  their  forepaws  singly. 


THE  SPINY  POCKET  MICE: 


THE  SPINY  POCKET  MICE 

(Perognathus  spinatus  Merriam) 

SOON  after  finishing  my  desert  shanty  I  built 
an  out-of-door  cookstove.  With  cement  and 
small  stones  I  constructed  a  fire-box  and  then 
closed  over  the  top  with  sheet  steel.  On  the 
evening  when  I  cooked  my  first  meal  upon  it 
the  pocket  mice  were  there  at  the  first  smell  of 
gravy.  They  climbed  up  on  the  stone  border, 
which  was  slightly  warm,  and  sat  there  on  their 
haunches  sniffing  the  odors.  So  long  as  I  kept 
perfectly  quiet  they  manifested  not  the  least 
bit  of  fear.  Evidently  they  pronounced  the 
supper  odors  good,  for  no  sooner  had  I  emptied 
the  contents  of  my  skillet  than  they  leaped 
into  the  half-warm  vessel  and  made  way  with 
the  leavings. 

These  little  creatures  were  so  graceful,  so 
clever,  so  elegant  and  cleanly,  that  I  never 
minded  having  them  clean  out  my  vessels.  My 
generous-hearted  skunk  came  only  too  often 
to  help  them  at  their  task.  Then,  of  course, 


58        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

their  labors  ended  quickly;  for  these  mice  knew 
how  skillful  are  the  nimble  paws  of  skunks  in 
catching  them,  and  they  hied  themselves  away 
into  the  rock  crannies  on  her  first  approach. 

After  this  the  mice  were  about  in  numbers 
every  evening  at  the  approach  of  darkness. 
I  counted  twenty-two  about  my  out-of-doors 
table  at  one  time.  They  were  everywhere,  under 
the  table,  on  the  table,  and  every  other  avail- 
able place.  While  I  sat  still  watching  them  they 
ran  up  my  trouser  legs  inside  and  out;  they 
nibbled  butter  from  my  knife,  and  only  too 
often  ran  across  my  plate. 

They  were  among  the  most  industrious  little 
creatures  I  ever  saw,  rivaling  the  ants  and  run- 
ning them  a  close  second  in  competition  for 
Solomon's  word  of  commendation.  These  busy 
little  rodents  every  night  covered  every  inch  of 
ground  about  my  house  in  their  search  for  food. 
Not  a  crumb  was  missed,  and  the  thousands  of 
tiny  close-set  footmarks  left  in  the  dust  by 
morning  showed  the  thoroughness  with  which 
they  searched. 

After  the  evening  meal  there  was  always  an 
abundance  of  crumbs  for  them  and  they  stuffed 


THE  SPINY  POCKET  MICE         59 

their  little  cheek  pouches  almost  to  bursting,  so 
that  these  pockets  looked  like  furry  balls  set  on 
beside  the  jaws.  It  was  always  amusing  to  see 
how  rapidly  the  mice  worked  their  little  weak 
forepaws  when  cramming  the  cheek  pouches 
full.  As  soon  as  a  load  was  secured,  they  hur- 
ried off  quickly  to  the  crevices  in  the  rock  piles, 
where  they  emptied  their  pouches,  and  hurried 
back  for  more.  These  mice  were  especially 
fond  of  making  off  with  the  burro's  barley,  and 
the  supply  often  suffered  severely  from  the 
work  of  their  industrious  hands.  A  half-dozen 
pocket  mice  working  all  night  will  carry  off 
several  quarts  of  grain. 

On  several  occasions,  while  I  was  absent  from 
my  house  for  a  number  of  nights  at  a  time,  they 
took  to  storing  barley  and  seeds  of  various 
kinds  between  the  blankets  and  under  the  pil- 
lows of  my  bed.  When  upon  returning  I  laid 
the  covers  back,  I  found  their  little  seed  piles, 
each  consisting  of  about  a  pint  of  grain.  Sev- 
eral successive  nights  afterward  I  was  awakened 
by  feeling  the  soft  furry  creatures  crawling 
under  my  blankets  as  they  came  in  with  more 
supplies  of  grain.  Evidently  they  had  not  taken 


6o        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

notice  of  the  giant  that  was  now  reposing  in 
their  storehouse. 

Many  a  merry  tune  they  played  at  night  as 
they  scurried  over  the  tin  lids  and  kettles  in 
the  pantry  out-of-doors.  Sometimes  they  would 
make  such  a  racket  that  I  would  expect  to 
see  everything  turned  topsy-turvy  by  morning. 
But  always  when  I  went  to  count  the  damage 
against  them  I  found  nothing  disturbed  at  all, 
a  thing  which  was  always  a  puzzle  to  me. 

For  some  reason  or  other  the  spiny  pocket 
mice  much  preferred  most  of  the  time  to  stay 
outside  the  house,  although  it  had  so  many 
cracks  through  which  they  could  enter  and 
leave.  On  the  whole  they  seemed  to  like  to  stay 
close  to  the  rock  piles  out  of  doors,  leaving  the 
indoor  crumbs  to  be  picked  up  by  the  wood  rats 
and  the  white-footed  mice  that  seemed  to  want 
to  come  in  on  every  occasion. 

It  is  a  clever  and  swift-flighted  owl  that 
catches  the  spiny  pocket  mice.  I  don't  think  he 
gets  many.  A  pocket  mouse  can  shoot  out  of 
sight  and  under  cover  in  less  time  than  any 
wild  creature  I  know  of.  They  leap  three  and 
four  feet  at  a  single  jump,  and  so  quickly  that 


THE  SPINY  POCKET  MICE         61 

the  eye  can  hardly  follow  them.  They  are  never 
about  in  the  daytime,  but  wait  until  twilight 
before  venturing  forth  for  food.  Thus  they 
avoid  many  enemies  which  stalk  about  during 
the  daytime.  But  they  find  in  a  night-roving 
species  of  rattlesnake,  the  sidewinder,  an  enemy 
not  to  be  ignored.  This  little  rattlesnake  is  so 
quick  in  its  movements  when  striking  that  even 
the  nimble,  swift  jumping  pocket  mice  seldom 
escape  capture. 

The  pocket  'mice  are  always  on  the  alert  and 
ready  for  flight  when  occasion  demands.  They 
notice  everything.  Let  me  make  a  sudden 
movement  with  my  foot,  or  wiggle  even  a  finger 
ever  so  little,  and  they  are  off  in  an  instant.  It 
is  a  singular  fact,  however,  that,  though  their 
ear  conchs  are  so  well  developed  for  catching 
sounds,  these  rodents  pay  little,  if  any,  atten- 
tion to  noises.  As  long  as  they  see  no  motion, 
they  pay  no  heed  to  sounds.  I  have  imitated 
owls  at  their  hooting,  carried  on  conversation 
with  visitors,  shouted  and  whined  in  sharp 
tones,  and  they  paid  no  more  attention  than  if 
they  were  stone  deaf. 

One  of  the  peculiarities  of  these  pocket  mice 


62        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

—  and  the  same  may  be  said  of  the  pocket  rats 
and  a  number  of  other  small  mammals  of  the 
desert  regions  —  is  their  ability  to  live  on 
almost  indefinitely  without  drinking  water  or 
eating  moist  food  of  any  kind.  They  are  thus 
unusually  well  adapted  to  live  in  arid  places. 
This  ability  to  subsist  without  water  is  the 
more  amazing  to  us  when  we  consider  the 
large  amounts  necessary  to  sustain  other  higher 
animal  life  in  the  same  region.  Lieutenant  Gail- 
lard,  of  the  Mexican  Boundary  Survey,  gives 
the  average  amount  of  water  consumed  on 
the  desert  during  the  summer  by  each  man 
of  the  Survey  to  be  about  seven  quarts  a  day 
and  twenty  gallons  for  the  pack  animals.  The 
desert  animals  subsisting  without  water  must 
elaborate  all  the  moisture  for  their  bodies  from 
the  food  they  eat,  much  of  which,  especially 
in  summer,  is  of  an  extremely  dry  character, 
mostly  dry  seeds.  Most  of  the  species  of  pocket 
mice  are  found  in  the  arid  Southwest,  and  none 
occur  east  of  the  Mississippi  River.  They  are 
very  sensitive  to  cold  and  moisture  and  thrive 
best  where  the  rainfall  is  least. 
The  spiny  pocket  mice  are  so  called  because 


THE  SPINY  POCKET  MICE         63 

of  the  many  spiny,  somewhat  porcupine-like 
hairs  which  cover  their  backs,  particularly  on 
the  rump  and  sides.  The  ears  are  small  com- 
pared with  the  wood  rat's,  but  similarly  well 
set  up.  Each  has  at  its  entrance  five  tiny  stiff 
black  hairs  which  are  doubtless  protective  in 
function.  The  eyes  are  quite  small.  The  end 
of  the  little  nose,  which  is  bare  of  hair,  is  ever 
in  motion;  the  shovel-like  tip  is  used  as  a  feeler. 
The  body  is  little  longer  than  half  the  length  of 
one's  thumb,  and  when  these  little  fellows  are 
curled  up  in  sleep  they  are  scarcely  bigger  than  a 
good-sized  marble  or  a  walnut.  The  tail,  which 
is  longer  than  the  entire  body,  is  covered  with 
many  fine,  soft  hairs  and  has  at  its  end  a  small 
brush  or  pencil  of  hairs,  the  sight  of  which 
would  doubtless  have  delighted  the  youthful 
Benjamin  West,  who  as  a  little  boy,  you  will 
remember,  plucked  hair  from  the  cat's  tail  to 
make  for  himself  a  paintbrush.  The  pocket 
mouse's  tail  would  have  served  the  young  artist 
quite  as  well.  The  tail  is  kept  well  off  the 
ground  most  of  the  time,  but  occasionally  you 
will  see  marks  in  the  dust  showing  where  it  has 
dragged.  When  the  mice  jump,  the  tail  is  sud- 


64        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

denly  thrown  forward,  but  as  quickly*  thrown 
backward  when  landing. 

They  are  easily  trapped,  and  recently  I 
caught  a  little  fellow  in  a  box  trap  and  for  a  few 
days  kept  him  a  captive  in  order  that  I  might 
more  closely  observe  some  of  his  habits.  As 
soon  as  he  found  himself  in  the  cage,  he  made  a 
careful  inspection  of  it  to  find  an  exit.  But  dis- 
covering none,  he  sat  down  on  his  haunches, 
grabbed  his  whiskers  in  his  forepaws,  and 
stroked  them  like  an  old  man  in  deep  thought, 
and  I  could  imagine  him  saying  to  himself: 
" Now-let-me-see.  What  am  I  to  do  next?" 
At  another  time  I  found  him  with  his  tail 
brought  forward  beneath  his  haunches  on 
which  he  was  sitting.  All  of  a  sudden  he 
grasped  its  end  with  his  forepaws  and  with  a 
very  funny  motion  began  running  his  hands 
over  it,  the  movement  much  resembling  the 
reverse  of  that  made  by  a  man  when  climbing 
a  rope;  this  over,  he  cleaned  his  whiskers  and 
ran  off  into  the  corner. 

Mice  are  a  humble  folk,  but  a  diligent,  assidu- 
ous people.  I  have  never  seen  creatures  that 
could  work  more  unremittingly  when  once 


THE  SPINY  POCKET  MICE         65 

they  begin,  whether  it  be  at  nest-making,  food- 
getting,  or  seeking  egress  from  a  cage  in  which 
they  find  themselves  imprisoned.  Though  noc- 
turnal by  nature,  they  are  ever  ready  to  work 
by  day  if  occasion  demands  it.  How  slow, 
cumbersome,  and  laborious  are  the  movements 
of  man,  how  sluggish  his  disposition,  compared 
with  that  of  these  alert,  ever-restless,  ever-agile, 
and  graceful  creatures  whom  he  so  often 
despises! 


THE  CACTUS  WREN 


THE  CACTUS  WREN 

(Heleodytes  brunneicapillus) 

THE  neotomas  are  not  alone  in  their  use  of 
cactuses  as  a  means  of  protection;  insects, 
mice,  turtle  doves,  ladder-backed  woodpeckers, 
Palmer  and  Le  Conte  thrashers,  and  several 
other  birds  find  in  the  beneficent  spiny  masses 
or  under  the  roots  a  hiding  haven  or  a  place  to 
rear  their  young.  How  it  happens  that  they 
can  dodge  the  spears  and  daggers  in  which  all 
their  foes  are  likely  to  be  caught,  I  cannot  say, 
for  never  were  skins  or  bodies  more  tender  than 
theirs.  Does  each  have  a  guiding  spirit  or  have 
they  all  been  dipped  in  the  river  Styx? 

Among  the  most  clever  of  these  cactus  spine- 
dodgers  is  the  desert  cactus  wren,  which  can 
perch  upon  the  branches  or  dive  into  a  tree  of 
the  awful  Bigelow's  cholla  with  perfect  im- 
punity. In  fact,  the  cactus  wren  finds  the  com- 
pany of  cactuses  so  congenial  that  she  not  only 
spends  a  great  deal  of  her  time  foraging  for 
insects  among  their  branches,  but  chooses  to 


70        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

rear  her  family  in  a  nest  embraced  and  fortified 
by  their  needles.  I  doubt  if  there  is  a  member 
of  the  wren  family  that  better  provides  for  the 
protection  of  her  home. 

Those  who  are  used  to  associating  the  word 
"wren"  with  the  tiny,  sprightly,  and  vivacious 
bird  of  the  Eastern  States,  with  its  happy, 
jocund,  and  joyous  song,  will  find  it  hard  to  see 
how  the  cactus  wren  can  be  called  a  wren  at  all, 
for  he  is  such  a  different  fellow  from  the  bird  of 
their  acquaintance.  On  the  whole  he  is  rather  a 
coarse-looking  bird  with  no  prepossessing  char- 
acters as  to  either  form  or  color.  Comparatively, 
he  is  rather  a  good-sized  bird,  having  a  length 
of  eight  inches  from  bill  to  tail-tip.  The  general 
color-tone  is  brownish  gray  with  whitish  under- 
parts  prominently  speckled  with  round  and 
linear  black  spots,  especially  on  the  throat  and 
fore  part  of  the  breast.  The  bill,  like  that  of 
the  rock  wrens,  is  slightly  bent.  The  song  is  an 
odd  one  and  hardly  musical,  consisting  gen- 
erally of  only  a  coarse  prolonged  clatter  or  low 
"chut-chut-chut."  It  is  especially  noticeable  in 
the  spring  during  the  nesting  season.  The  males 
are  then  unusually  quarrelsome,  hot-tempered, 


THE  CACTUS  WREN  71 

irascible  fellows,  pursuing  one  another  in  flight 
over  long  distances,  scolding  and  giving  vent 
to  their  peppery  tempers  and  jealousies  in 
shrill,  angry,  jaylike  notes  of  warning. 

These  giant  wrens  are  with  us  all  the  year, 
but  are  seldom  heard  except  during  the  breed- 
ing season.  They  seem  to  be  less  plentiful  in 
winter;  food  being  then  scarce  they  scatter 
out  more.  The  male  and  the  female  stay 
matched  throughout  the  year  and  are  generally 
found  foraging  together.  In  California  they  are 
common  in  all  the  desert  country  as  far  north 
as  the  upper  end  of  Owen's  Valley,  and  on  the 
coast  they  are  found  from  San  Diego  to  Ven- 
tura County.  The  cactus  wrens  are  also  com- 
mon residents  of  Texas,  New  Mexico,  Arizona, 
Nevada,  and  southern  Utah. 

The  nest  presents  a  very  interesting  piece  of 
bird  architecture.  Shaped  like  a  large,  long, 
globular  purse,  it  is  laid  horizontally  (the  angle 
is  really  slightly  less  than  45°)  between  the 
forks  and  branches  of  a  cactus,  and  from  it 
there  runs  outward  a  singular  covered  passage 
or  tunnel,  varying  from  four  to  twelve  inches  in 
length.  It  is  composed  of  fine  grasses  and 


72        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

coarser  sticks  and  is  lined  with  feathers,  the 
whole  often  topped  off  with  a  loose  stack  of 
branchlets  from  certain  species  of  buckwheats 
growing  in  the  region.  I  find  that  the  cactus 
wrens  are  pretty  good  botanists  and  are  able  to 
select  with  remarkable  exactness  certain  species 
of  plants  which  they  desire.  In  the  examination 
of  a  great  number  of  nests  the  past  spring  in 
the  Colorado  Desert  of  California,  I  found  the 
lower  portion  of  all  the  nests  consisting  of 
certain  plants  only,  the  kind  seldom  varying 
from  nest  to  nest,  and  the  top  stack  in  every 
case  made  from  one  certain  species  of  reddish- 
stemmed  buckwheat  (Eriogonum),  and  this, 
though  there  are  growing  abundantly  in  the 
region  several  species  which  might  be  easily 
confused.  But  the  cactus  wren,  bird  botanist, 
never  makes  a  mistake. 

There  is  no  need  to  advertise  for  information 
to  find  out  where  the  cactus  wrens  have  built 
their  nests;  for  go  anywhere  you  will,  you  will 
come  upon  them  among  the  patches  of  shrubby 
cactuses  and  thorny  palo  verde  trees.  And  you 
will  find  nests  in  abundance  and  not  judge  that 
the  cactus  wren  population  is  waning.  In  a 


FLASK-SHAPED  NESTS  OF  CACTUS  WREN  IN  OPUNTIA 
CACTUS 


THE  CACTUS  WREN  73 

walk  of  about  a  mile  over  a  cactus-strewn, 
rocky  detritus  fan  emerging  from  one  of  the 
desert  canons,  I  once  counted  thirty  nests. 

Last  spring  a  nest  was  made  within  twenty 
feet  of  my  door  and  I  had  a  chance  to  watch 
closely  the  rearing  of  the  young.  Incubation 
began  after  four  salmon-dotted,  white  eggs  had 
been  laid  in  the  nest.  When  once  hatched  the 
baby  birds,  like  all  youngsters,  grew  amazingly 
fast  and  their  appetites  kept  the  mother  con- 
stantly afield  in  search  of  insects.  It  seemed 
only  a  few  days  from  the  time  I  first  saw  the 
tiny,  upstretched,  gaping  mouths  until  the 
nest  was  overflowing  with  squirming  almost 
full-grown  birds.  The  passageway  or  vestibule 
to  this  nest  was  very  short  —  not  over  four 
inches  long  —  and  it  was  always  a  wonder  to  me 
that  none  of  the  restless  birdlings  became  im- 
paled on  the  frightful  cactus  needles  bristling 
like  bayonets  about  the  edge  of  the  nest.  After 
making  inquiry  for  a  number  of  years,  I  can 
find  only  one  instance  where  young  were  seen 
spitted  on  the  thorns  outside. 

The  wrens  are  peculiar  among  birds  in  that 
among  many  species  there  is  the  habit  of  build- 


74        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

ing  during  the  spring  or  the  autumn  the  so- 
called  " spare  nests"  or  "  roosting-nests  "  which 
are  used  during  the  greater  part  of  the  year  for 
sleeping-quarters  by  the  adult  birds.  Unlike 
the  nests  made  for  rearing  the  young,  these 
nests  are  ordinarily  small,  compact,  scantily 
lined,  and  built  with  much  less  care.  In  some 
cases,  however,  the  old  brooding-nests  are  used 
after  being  relined  and  generally  reconstructed. 
During  the  past  autumn  I  noticed  that  a  cock 
wren  was  roosting  in  a  spare  nest  built  in  a  palo 
verde  tree  below  my  house.  During  the  winter 
months  he  quite  regularly  went  to  roost  at 
about  4.30  o'clock.  On  one  particular  evening 
in  January  an  incident  took  place  at  the  nest 
which  was  so  ludicrous  that  it  needs  to  be  given 
record. 

The  wren  had  nicely  settled  himself  in  the 
nest  for  the  night  when  a  curious,  impudent, 
meddlesome  shrike,  or  butcher  bird,  flew  into 
the  tree,  and,  bent  on  plunder,  poked  his  beak 
into  the  private  residence  of  the  wren.  Not 
pleased  with  such  intrusions,  the  waspish- 
tempered  wren  flew  into  a  rage,  and  before  the 
shrike  was  able  to  realize  his  precarious  situa- 


THE  CACTUS  WREN  75 

tion  he  was  seized  by  the  foot  with  a  bill-grip 
as  strong  as  a  vise.  The  captive  bird  screamed 
and  shrieked,  fluttered  and  pulled,  trying  to 
extricate  himself  from  the  grip  of  the  wren,  who 
seemed  determined  never  to  let  go.  "  You  will 
poke  your  head  into  places  you  have  no  busi- 
ness to,  will  you?"  I  could  fancy  the  wren  say- 
ing. "  I  will  give  you  a  lesson  that  will  last  you 
awhile/' 

The  shrike  did  finally  get  away,  no  doubt 
glad  to  have  escaped  without  a  toe  missing. 
I  feel  certain  that  his  pugnacious  and  curious 
nature  did  not  lead  him  to  visit  those  quarters 
again  soon. 

The  nest  of  the  cactus  wren  seems  unusually 
well  protected  from  the  ravages  of  enemies 
common  to  birds,  yet  do  not  think  for  a  mo- 
ment that  these  birds  are  wholly  immune  from 
attack.  Snakes,  those  constant  terrors  of  the 
bird  world,  even  risk  climbing  up  through  the 
ramified  and  prickly  branches  of  the  cholla  to 
get  the  eggs  and  young.  Since  several  species  of 
smaller  rodents,  such  as  wild  mice,  wood  rats, 
and  antelope  chipmunks  are  also  able  to  climb 
with  comparative  ease  into  the  cactuses,  it  is 


76        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

really  a  question  whether  or  not  the  situation  of 
the  nest  is  any  real  protection  to  other  than 
avian  enemies. 

Not  long  ago  an  artist  friend  of  mine,  out 
with  his  easel  and  colors,  upon  hearing  a  strange 
bird  call,  had  his  attention  drawn  to  a  cactus 
wren  which  was  hovering  in  peculiar  flight 
above  a  large  cholla.  Interested  in  the  unusual 
actions  of  the  bird,  he  stepped  nearer  to  observe 
it,  and  as  he  did  so  he  noticed  a  large  red  racer 
coiled  among  the  branches  of  the  cactus,  cruelly 
devouring  the  nestful  of  birdlings.  As  he  rushed 
up  to  the  nest,  the  snake  became  frightened 
and  dropped  from  the  shrub,  leaving  the  last 
little,  half-dead  bird  on  the  edge  of  the  nest, 
its  mute  and  bloody  remains  testifying  to  the 
horrible  tragedy  that  had  taken  place  in  the 
once  happy  bird  home. 


CATHERPES,  THE  CAftON  WREN 


CATHERPES,  THE  CAftON  WREN 

(Catherpes  mexicanus  conspersus) 

OF  all  our  sweet-singing  Western  birds,  it 
seems  to  me  without  a  doubt  that  the  canon 
wren  is  the  most  finished  and  pleasing  musician. 
All  birddom  hardly  shows  a  song  so  full  of  glad 
hurry,  so  sweet  and  artistically  controlled. 
Whether  bursting  upon  the  still,  herb-scented 
air  from  out  a  deep- walled  canon,  or  echoed  and 
reechoed  from  the  rocky  mountain  cliffs,  it  is  a 
song  that  always  arouses  the  whole  soul  to 
rapture.  There  is  first  the  hurried  silvery  trill 
and  then  the  well-modulated  descending  scale 
of  eight  to  eleven  joyous,  liquid  notes.  It  is  a 
song  varied  at  times,  but  always  well  worth 
learning  by  heart;  for  by  imitating  the  birds  you 
can  induce  them  to  sing  again  and  again,  and 
answer  you  back  from  over  the  canon  depths. 
It  is  in  the  early  morning  hours  before  and 
immediately  after  sunrise  that  the  song  is  at 
its  best,  most  vibrant  and  clear.  As  the  morn- 
ing advances,  the  songs  become  more  infrequent 


8o        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

until  during  midday  we  seldom  hear  a  sound 
from  the  little  throats;  but  when  evening  comes 
again,  the  notes  of  the  matin  song  which 
ceased  with  the  warm  hours  are  again  taken  up 
with  ardor. 

In  many  ways  the  canon  wrens  and  rock 
wrens  are  very  much  alike.  They  are  birds  of 
about  the  same  size,  they  have  similar  bobbing 
motions,  and  both  are  rupestrine  (rock-dwell- 
ing) species,  living  on  similar  food.  However, 
the  canon  wren  possesses  little  of  the  friendly 
curiosity  that  her  inquisitive  and  polite  sister 
has.  Few  birds  are  more  shy  and  retiring  than 
these  little  sprites  of  the  canon  solitudes.  Try 
as  you  will  you  can  seldom  approach  sufficiently 
near  to  see  them.  Just  as  you  think  you  are 
upon  them  they  slip  away,  and  after  a  few 
moments  of  silence  sing  you  their  scale  song 
from  far,  far  away.  And  so  it  happens  that  most 
of  us  must  be  content  to  know  the  sweet  singers 
only  by  their  songs. 

However,  those  who  will  to  know  the  canon 
wren  have  much  to  repay  their  efforts  when 
once  through  persistent  seeking  they  locate, 
slip  up  close  to  one,  and  catch  a  glimpse  of  this 


CATHERPES,  THE  CANON  WREN    81 

bird  of  their  desires;  for  canon  wrens,  though 
not  so  attractive  in  appearance  as  some  of 
their  highly  colored  feathered  cousins,  are  really 
handsome  little  birds.  The  body  is  a  beautiful 
reddish  or  rusty  brown  color,  rather  inconspicu- 
ously speckled  with  black  and  whitish  spots 
and  with  an  almost  white,  shield-shaped  throat 
and  breast  patch  that  immediately  attracts 
attention.  The  old  vernacular  name,  "white- 
throated  wren/'  was  not  so  bad  after  all;  for  it 
pointed  out  this  very  prominent  field  mark 
which  is  so  useful  to  the  novice  observer. 

Remaining  deaf  to  the  "  seductive  summons  " 
which  call  so  many  of  the  other  birds  to  the 
warm  tropic  lands  during  winter,  the  canon 
wrens  stay  with  us  throughout  the  year  to  sing 
their  spirit-moving  strains.  Their  range  in- 
cludes all  that  territory  from  the  Sierra  Nevadas 
on  the  west  to  the  eastern  boundaries  of  the 
Rockies,  and  from  Idaho  south  to  Aguas  Calien- 
tes,  Mexico.1 

The  breeding  range  of  the  dotted  canon  wren 
runs  from  the  cool,  rocky  gorges  close  to  the 

1  They  are  resident  birds  only  in  the  southern  part  of  this 
region. 


82        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

desert  floors  up  to  the  upper  limits  of  the  yellow- 
pine  belt.  The  nesting-site  is  very  similar  to 
that  of  the  rock  wrens,  being  generally  a  niche 
in  the  rock  ledges,  though  records  are  given  of 
nests  being  constructed  about  buildings  and 
even  in  tunnels. 

When  once  a  canon  wren  takes  up  his  resi- 
dence in  a  certain  place  you  may  be  quite  cer- 
tain that  you  will  hear  him  about  in  that 
vicinity  through  many  seasons;  for  these  birds, 
like  the  rock  wrens,  are  a  home-loving  species. 
Four  years  ago  a  canon  wren  chose  a  little  gorge 
behind  my  house  for  its  domicile,  and  every 
year  since  in  autumn,  winter,  spring,  and  sum- 
mer I  have  heard  almost  daily  his  sweet  song 
ringing  out  clearly  on  the  morning  and  evening 
air. 

It  seems  strange,  but  this  shy  little  bird  will 
sometimes  frequent  the  habitations  of  man. 
Dr.  Chapman  mentions  the  Mexican  species  of 
Catherpes  singing  on  the  housetops  of  Guada- 
lajara, and,  at  Palm  Springs  on  the  Colorado 
Desert  I  every  once  in  a  while  find  them  com- 
ing into  the  village,  in  some  instances  even 
entering  the  crudely  built  wickiups  of  the 


ROCKY  GORGE  ENVIRONMENT,  COLORADO  DESERT 
WASHINGTONIA  PALMS  IN  FOREGROUND 


CATHERPES,  THE  CANON  WREN    83 

Indians  in  search  of  insects  and  crumbs.  At 
Sacaton,  Arizona,  Mr.  French  Gilman  found 
one  building  its  nest  in  a  slot  machine  on  the 
porch  of  the  hotel. 

Besides  the  musical-scale  song,  Catherpes  has 
another  little  song,  the  idler's  song  I  like  to 
call  it,  which  is  iterated  again  and  again  when 
there  is  little  else  to  do  and  he  is  just  sitting 
still  and  bobbing.  As  though  to  give  added 
emphasis  to  what  he  has  to  say,  he  always  gives 
his  head  a  decided  down-jerk  as  he  sings  it  out, 
reminding  one  of  the  scolding  Johnny  owls. 
The  rock  wren's  idler's  song  is  a  tinkling  trill, 
but  the  canon  wren's  note  given  under  similar 
circumstances  is  a  shorter  utterance  and  lacks 
much  of  the  resonance  and  metallic  quality  of 
the  former. 

Practically  all  of  the  wrens  have  what  we 
might  characterize  as  a  scolding  note,  a  sort 
of  harsh  gritty  " skee-eep"  uttered  as  a  protest 
against  intruders  or  as  an  alarm  note.  The 
canon  wren's  peppery  temper  often  induces  him 
to  utter  just  such  a  rasping  note,  a  sound  so 
much  in  contrast  to  the  regular  vibrant,  clear, 
ringing  scale  song  that  it  is  a  surprise  to  hear  it 


84        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

coming  from  the  same  gifted  throat.  But  with 
the  lizards  and  the  nest- plundering  jays  to 
watch  and  the  ever-annoying  snakes  and 
hawks  to  fear,  who  could  keep  from  getting 
bad-tempered  and  from  scolding  and  protesting 
once  in  a  while?  Often  it  seems  that  the  whole 
programme  of  bird  life  has  resolved  itself  into  a 
war  between  the  eaters  and  the  eaten.  Seeing 
as  one  does  this  tragedy  of  the  world  of  small 
creatures,  one  sometimes  wonders  how  birds 
can  be  as  happy  as  they  are  or  develop  any 
incentive  for  song. 

Almost  the  instant  after  escape  from  immi- 
nent danger,  birds  in  most  cases  seem  to  return 
to  their  former  state  of  apparent  tranquillity 
and  joy.  Only  thus  could  they  endure  to  live 
in  their  world  of  constant  danger.  Evidently 
they  carry  lightly  the  load  of  worry,  if  they 
carry  it  at  all,  and  the  dread  of  life's  dangers 
exists  in  their  minds  only  at  the  time  of  their 
being  engaged  by  force  of  circumstances  to 
realize  them.  Did  man  live  in  such  a  world  and 
retain  his  present  mental  tendency  to  worry, 
he  would  wear  himself  to  a  near  if  not  a  true 
insanity  of  fear. 


BETSY  BOUNCE,  THE  ROCK  WREN 


BETSY  BOUNCE,  THE  ROCK  WREN 

(Salpinctes  obsoletus) 

EARLY,  early  this  morning,  long  before  a  single 
direct  ray  of  the  sun  had  brightened  the  rock- 
ribbed  hills  or  desert  sands,  the  rock  wren  was 
abroad  as  restless  as  a  chipmunk,  singing  her 
shrill,  chippering,  tinkling  song  and  ceaselessly 
darting  in  and  out  among  the  rock  ledges  look- 
ing for  insects.  And  now  that  the  sun  is  really 
up  and  the  spiders  are  at  rest,  and  the  gauzy- 
winged  insects  are  coming  out  of  their  hiding, 
she  is  busier  than  ever. 

When  I  go  out  to  watch  her  she  has  a  funny 
way  of  standing  still  on  a  rock  and  bobbing  up 
and  down  as  if  she  were  dropping  me  a  curtsy, 
or  were  ever  deciding  to  leap  into  air  and  then 
concluding,  when  half  off,  not  to  go  quite  so 
soon,  but  to  watch  me  a  minute  longer.  And 
in  this  particular  she  reminds  me  of  the  rollick- 
ing, sweet-voiced  water  ouzel  of  our  mountain 
streams,  or  of  her  nearer  relative,  the  trumpet- 
ing canon  wren.  As  she  continues  her  funny, 


88        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

restless  bobbing  antics  she  gives  me  a  yet  more 
funny  song  which,  once  heard,  can  never  be 
forgotten,  and  which  has  been  well  character- 
ized by  Florence  Merriam  Bailey  as  "the  most 
unbirdlike  of  machine-made  tinklings,"  a  shrill, 
metallic  twitter,  "  Kree  —  kree  —  kree  —  kree." 
She  has  such  pretty  speckles  on  the  breast  of 
her  grayish  brown  body  and  such  a  well-defined 
and  prominent  streak  of  white  over  the  eye 
that  you  cannot,  having  seen  her  movements 
and  heard  her  song,  ever  mistake  her  for  any 
other  bird.  The  bill,  too,  is  distinctive,  being 
exceptionally  long  (equaling  the  length  of  the 
head)  for  so  plump  and  tiny  a  bird.  It  is  slightly 
decurved  at  the  tip  and  well  adapted  to  pull 
the  spiders,  beetles,  and  day-hiding  moths  from 
the  deep  cracks  in  the  rocks. 

The  rock  wren  is  among  our  most  widely  dis- 
tributed of  Western  birds,  choosing  her  home 
amidst  a  variety  of  environmental  conditions 
that  puts  her  in  a  class  by  herself.  This  restless 
little  rock-dweller  makes  herself  as  much  at 
home  among  the  sun-scorched  rocks  of  the 
silent  desert  wildernesses  as  on  the  boulder- 
strewn  hills  of  the  moist  coastal  slopes;  she 


BETSY  BOUNCE,  THE  ROCK  WREN    89 

finds  as  happy  a  domicile  on  the  very  pinnacles 
of  our  highest  mountains  as  on  the  fog-drenched 
lowlands  bordering  the  ocean  —  a  cosmopolite, 
indeed,  and  everywhere  a  happy  bird.  Those 
living  on  the  higher  mountains  go  to  lower  levels 
during  the  winter,  but  the  desert-dwellers  make 
no  vertical  migrations  during  the  year,  remain- 
ing in  their  arid,  sun-bleached  home  through  the 
intense  heat  of  summer  as  well  as  the  pleasant 
days  of  winter. 

The  rock  wren,  like  the  mountain  junco,  is  an 
agreeably  sociable  little  bird,  coming  about 
one's  quarters  and  making  herself  at  home  if 
given  the  least  encouragement.  My  little  Betsy 
Bounce,  as  I  love  to  call  the  fidgety  little  rock 
wren  that  has  made  herself  so  familiar  about  my 
home,  comes  regularly  each  morning  to  the 
door  to  pick  up  the  crumbs  which  I  throw  down 
for  her,  and  when  all  is  quiet  she  comes  inside 
the  house  and,  after  crumbing  the  floor,  hunts 
in  every  crack  and  cranny  from  floor  to  ceiling 
for  insects.  Not  the  tiniest  crack  escapes  her 
sharp,  watchful  eye,  though  sometimes  it  takes 
her  fully  fifteen  minutes  of  constant  search  to 
finish  her  task  of  routing  out  the  spiders.  Often 


90        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

after  completing  her  search  inside  she  goes  over 
the  outside  of  the  many-cracked  shanty  as  care- 
fully as  she  has  gone  over  the  inside.  But  I  am 
confident  she  finds  it  unprofitable  labor;  for, 
since  my  house  is,  in  true  desert  fashion,  only 
one  board  thick,  she  must  peer  into  the  same 
cracks  from  the  outside  that  she  has  already 
searched  through  from  the  inside. 

As  soon  as  I  open  my  door  in  the  morning  I 
find  Betsy  seated  on  the  rock  just  outside, 
fidgeting,  bowing,  and  bobbing,  and  waiting  for 
me  to  quiet  down  so  that  she  can  come  in  to  get 
her  crumbs  and  insects.  If  I  am  too  long  at 
getting  my  breakfast  over,  her  bobbing  motion 
takes  on  a  more  determined  manner  and  she 
fidgets  more  than  ever,  showing  her  impatience, 
and  vociferously  protesting  because  I  have  kept 
her  so  long  outside.  I  can  almost  hear  her  say: 
"Hurry  up!  Hurry  up!  I've  been  waiting  on 
you  a  whole  hour  already!" 

A  long  search  among  the  rock  ledges  during 
March  and  April  if  you  are  on  the  desert,  or 
later  if  in  the  mountains,  may  bring  you  to  the 
nest  situated  in  some  deep  rock  nook  or  crevice. 
If  the  rock  wrens  have  found  it  possible  they 


BETSY  BOUNCE,  THE  ROCK  WREN   91 

will  have  hidden  it  so  deeply  that  it  will  be 
quite  out  of  sight,  and  it  may  take  considerable 
work  on  your  part  even  to  get  a  peep  at  it. 
But  the  nest  or  its  situation  is  the  least  inter- 
esting feature.  It  is  the  unique  paved  entrance 
that  most  engages  the  attention.  During  the 
building  season  the  birds  become  connoisseurs 
of  flat  and  pretty  stones,  and  these  they  scatter 
together  with  a  few  sticks  about  the  dooryard 
of  the  nest.  And  these  stones  are  not  small  ones 
either.  Stones  a  quarter  of  an  inch  thick  and 
an  inch  and  a  half  long  are  the  average-sized 
ones  in  the  nests  I  have  seen,  but  even  larger 
ones  are  not  infrequent.  The  quantity  may  be 
several  handfuls.  Sometimes  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  coastal  villages  the  rock  wrens  gather 
shells,  pieces  of  china,  and  even  bits  of  shining 
black  coal  to  use  in  decorating  the  nest's  en- 
trance. Why  such  elaborate  pains  should  be 
taken  to  decorate  and  "fix  up"  the  tiny  bird 
home  is  difficult  to  explain  on  other  grounds 
than  the  bird's  aesthetic  sense  —  a  taste  pos- 
sessed by  many  birds  and  animals.  Mr.  French 
Gilman  tells  me  that  one  spring,  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  Sacaton  Indian  Reservation  in  Arizona, 


92        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

he  found  many  of  the  newly  made  nests  of  the 
Abert  towhees,  Bendire  thrashers,  and  in  one 
instance  the  nest  of  the  cactus  wren,  covered 
with  the  brilliant  yellow  blossoms  of  Baeria,  or 
Sunshine.  He  was  able  to  find  no  satisfactory 
explanation  other  than  that  the  birds  had  been 
attracted  by  the  highly  colored  flowers  and  had 
been  induced  by  their  sense  of  decoration  thus 
to  adorn  their  homes. 

It  is  always  easy  to  know  when  the  time  of 
nest-building  is  near,  for  the  cock  wren,  who 
all  the  winter  long  has  been  rather  monoto- 
nously keeping  to  one  little  ditty,  now  bursts  out 
into  the  full  melody  of  his  courting  song  —  a 
song  insistent,  positive,  confident,  and  full  of 
good  cheer,  and  so  different  in  quality  and  style 
from  that  which  formerly  came  from  his  throat 
during  winter  that  it  is  difficult  to  believe  that  a 
new  songster  has  not  appeared  with  the  breezes 
of  spring.  All  through  the  year  the  sprightly 
rock  wrens  are  about  the  first  birds  up  in  the 
morning  and  with  the  towhees  the  last  to  retire 
at  night,  and  now  that  they  are  especially  noisy 
in  song  you  are  more  than  ever  aware  of  their 
early  risings  and  late  retirings.  The  nesting 


BETSY  BOUNCE,  THE  ROCK  WREN   93 

season  begins  late  in  February  and  lasts  through 
to  May  and  June,  varying,  of  course,  in  a  bird 
of  such  wide  zonal  distribution  according  to  the 
locality.  The  desert  birds  have  nested  and 
reared  their  young  before  the  mountain  birds 
have  laid  the  first  eggs. 

If  there  are  any  small  birds  that  show  them- 
selves more  concerned  over  the  approach  of  an 
intruder  toward  the  nest  I  am  not  aware  of  it. 
Such  bobbings  and  screechings  and  restless 
flights  and  fidgety  dashes  as  they  engage  in, 
fill  one  with  both  pity  and  amusement;  pity, 
because  of  their  deep  concern  and  nervousness; 
amusement,  because  of  their  funny  motions 
and  calls. 


THE  ANTELOPE  CHIPMUNK 


THE  ANTELOPE  CHIPMUNK 

(Ammospermophilus  leucurus) 

THE  antelope  chipmunks,  or  ammos,  as  they 
are  sometimes  called,  are  tthe  liveliest,  most 
active  and  agile  of  all  the  small  mammals  of 
the  desert,  and  they  hold  an  interest  to  us  out 
of  all  proportion  to  their  size.  As  they  dash 
across  the  sands  at  such  lively  clips  as  they 
are  wont  to  go,  they  remind  us  of  tiny  rabbits, 
immediately  attracting  our  attention  with  their 
little  white  tails,  or  flags,  which  they  carry 
curled  up  over  their  backs.  So  many  points  of 
resemblance  are  there  both  in  general  appear- 
ance and  in  movements  between  these  little 
rodents  and  the  chipmunks  of  the  mountains 
that  the  desert  people  call  them  chipmunks, 
though  they  are  really  very  small  ground 
squirrels. 

The  desert  antelope  chipmunks  are  found  in 
great  numbers  both  on  the  Colorado  and  the 
Mohave  Deserts,  and  beyond  the  borders  of 
California  nearly  related  species  are  found 


98        DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

living  in  Arizona,  Nevada,  western  Colorado, 
Utah,  and  New  Mexico.  In  general  they  con- 
fine themselves  to  the  rocky  hills  and  the 
borders  of  the  desert  where  the  soils  are  com- 
pact and  offer  favorable  conditions  for  con- 
structing their  burrows.  There  are  a  few  places 
where  they  are  found  well  up  in  the  mountains 
(4000-7000  feet),  but  in  these  localities  the 
climate  is  very  dry  and  the  plants  are  desert- 
loving  species.  These  spermophiles  require  a 
dryer  climate  than  that  existing  in  the  coastal 
valleys,  and  in  only  a  few  instances  have  they 
been  known  to  establish  themselves  on  the 
Pacific  side  of  the  mountains. 

The  ammos  do  not  localize  their  burrows  or 
live  in  close  colonies  like  many  of  the  ground 
squirrels,  but  scatter  their  holes  out  quite  uni- 
formly over  their  range.  They  make  their  bur- 
rows in  places  affording  a  protection  against 
enemies  that  dig,  such  as  coyotes,  weasels,  and 
badgers,  choosing  a  site  generally  near  some 
bush  or  rock.  The  holes  are  distinctive  in  that 
the  openings  are  generally  more  or  less  tri- 
angular in  outline  and  have  very  little  earth 
thrown  up  at  the  entrance;  it  is  thus  easy  to 


THE  ANTELOPE  CHIPMUNK       99 

learn  to  tell  them  from  the  retreats  of  other 
small  mammals  of  the  region.  The  burrows 
are  neither  deep  nor  extensive.  Last  spring  a 
number  of  desert  chipmunks  took  up  their 
residence  near  my  house,  moving  from  their 
quarters  down  on  the  flat  up  onto  the  mountain- 
side into  an  abandoned  wood  rat's  hole,  so  that 
they  could  be  nearer  the  place  where  I  kept 
food  out  for  the  birds.  Many  a  dispute  they 
then  had  with  the  desert  sparrows,  the  towhees, 
and  the  rock  wrens  at  the  food  table.  Being 
more  audacious  and  pugnacious,  the  chipmunks 
always  cleared  the  way  for  themselves  and  sent 
the  poor  birds  away  to  get  their  share  of  the 
grain  when  they  could. 

Among  this  lot  of  ammos  was  one  bully,  a 
very  large  fellow,  who  always  ruled  the  food 
yard  with  an  iron  hand ;  and  he  let  it  be  known 
that  all  others  who  ate  there  did  so  at  his 
sufferance.  Upon  his  arrival  the  other  chip- 
munks generally  scurried  off  a  little  way  and 
then  approached  cautiously  to  test  out  his  good 
nature  before  eating  in  his  presence.  They 
seemed  to  understand  that  he  had  marked  out 
his  sphere  of  influence  and  that  he  was  able  to 


loo      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

defend  it  against  all  encroachers.  Very  often 
there  was  much  quarreling  going  on  among 
them,  and  this  was  always  accompanied  by  a 
great  deal  of  noise,  the  ammos  making  sounds 
much  like  those  made  by  quarreling  mountain 
chipmunks. 

Altogether  there  are  about  a  dozen  of  these 
"chipmunks"  that  feed  near  my  shanty,  and 
during  the  day  when  no  one  is  around  to  dis- 
turb them  I  generally  find  most  of  them  nos- 
ing around  hunting  for  something  to  eat.  The 
number  of  track-marks  that  they  make  on  the 
soft  dirt  in  a  day  is  amazing.  Hardly  a  square 
inch  of  ground  is  there  which  they  do  not  cover. 
Not  a  thing  that  is  edible  and  open  to  their 
reach  is  undiscovered.  Like  most  rodents,  they 
are  able  to  consume  a  surprising  amount  of  food, 
and  when  they  have  more  than  they  want  they 
carry  off  the  rest  in  their  cheek  pouches.  When 
they  find  a  store  of  food  they  are  indefatigable 
workers,  and  will  not  leave  it  until  the  whole  of 
it  is  placed  safely  away.  Several  times  they  got 
into  the  burro's  barley  bag,  and  I  found  that, 
though  the  cheek  pouches  of  a  single  chipmunk 
hold  but  slightly  more  than  a  heaping  teaspoon- 


&:. 


» 


ANTELOPE  CHIPMUNK  FEEDING 


THE  ANTELOPE  CHIPMUNK      101 

ful  of  food,  yet  in  a  day  they  could  carry  away 
several  quarts  of  grain. 

The  bill-of-fare  varies  a  good  deal  with  the 
change  of  seasons.  During  the  early  spring 
when  succulent  food  is  plentiful  they  eat  many 
green  plants.  At  other  times  they  live  on  seeds 
such  as  those  of  the  tree  yuccas,  cactuses,  scrub 
junipers,  and  many  kinds  of  grasses.  During  a 
part  of  the  year  they  add  to  their  dry  diet  the 
fruits  of  the  cactuses.  Like  a  great  many  of  the 
smaller  rodents  they  will  eat  flesh  if  they  can 
get  it. 

In  their  search  for  food  they  become  very 
brave  even  in  the  presence  of  people,  and  if 
one  is  quiet  they  will  even  enter  the  house  and 
really  become  quite  tame.  They  are  always  on 
the  alert,  however,  and  ready  to  run  when  the 
time  comes  for  them  to  seek  safety  in  retreat. 
Like  the  mice  and  wood  rats  they  do  not  mind 
noise  much,  but  the  sight  of  any  motion,  how- 
ever slight,  is  a  signal  of  danger  that  sends 
them  off  to  their  holes  in  a  hurry. 

The  ammos  are  quite  dexterous  in  their 
use  of  the  forepaws  and  they  generally  use 
them  as  hands  to  hold  food  up  to  their  mouths. 


102      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

Since  at  such  times  they  are  much  given  to 
sitting  up  on  their  haunches  they  assume  quite 
a  human  aspect.  I  was  recently  much  amused 
at  the  use  a  little  chipmunk  made  of  his  "  hands  " 
while  scratching  for  fleas  on  his  rump.  Not 
being  able  to  get  at  the  parts  that  itched  very 
easily  he  grasped  the  skin  with  his  left  forefoot 
and  stretched  it  around  forward  where  with  his 
right  forepaw  he  could  reach  it.  He  saw  to  it 
that  the  skin  was  stretched  tight  and  then  pro- 
ceeded to  give  it  a  thorough  scratching.  The 
little  foot  moved  bewilderingly  fast.  Dear  little 
fellow,  even  he  had  his  troubles. 

The  antelope  chipmunks  are  easily  caught  in 
box  traps,  but,  unless  caught  very  young,  they 
make  poor  pets,  being  so  shy  that  they  stay 
closely  hidden  in  the  cages  provided  for  them 
and  seldom  show  themselves  when  any  person 
is  around.  I  have  several  times  tried  to  tame 
them,  but  I  have  always  soon  set  the  little 
creatures  free,  reproaching  myself  for  ever 
having  subjected  them  to  the  fear  which  accom- 
panied their  being  placed  in  a  box. 

Their  progress  when  running  is  accomplished 
by  a  series  of  short,  bouncing  leaps,  the  tail 


THE  ANTELOPE  CHIPMUNK      103 

meanwhile  being  carried  well  over  the  back. 
When  an  ammo  is  pursued,  he  seldom  goes 
straight  to  his  hole.  Generally  he  runs  a  little 
way  and  then  stops  and  looks  back  to  see  if 
you  are  still  coming.  If  you  also  hesitate,  he 
will  sit  up  on  his  haunches  in  true  ground- 
squirrel  fashion  and  with  his  head  to  one  side 
assume  a  listening  attitude.  In  this  position  of 
alertness  he  may  remain  for  some  moments. 
All  the  time  the  nose  and  the  little  side  whisk- 
ers are  kept  in  constant  motion,  and  the  tail  is 
vibrated  too.  If  now  he  is  chased  into  his  hole, 
the  little  fellow  will  stay  underground  for  some 
time  before  venturing  forth.  His  sense  of 
caution  is  very  great,  and  he  will  see  to  it  that 
you  are  well  out  of  sight  or  a  good  distance 
away  before  he  again  comes  out  into  the  open. 
The  antelope  chipmunks  do  not  like  cold, 
cloudy,  or  rainy  weather  and  they  seldom  come 
out  of  their  burrows  at  such  times  unless  very 
hungry.  But  the  minute  the  showers  are  over 
they  will  be  out  everywhere  enjoying  the  oppor- 
tunity, for  exercise  and  foraging.  During  the 
winter  months  those  living  in  the  colder  deserts 
and  up  in  the  mountains  may  spend  several 


104      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

months  hibernating,  but  those  on  the  Colorado 
Desert  are  active  all  through  the  year.  How- 
ever, even  there  the  cold  mornings  of  winter 
generally  keep  them  in  their  burrows  until  nine 
or  ten  o'clock  or  until  the  sun  has  warmed  up 
the  rocks.  They  retire  correspondingly  early 
in  the  afternoon.  Only  once  have  I  known  a 
chipmunk  to  be  out  after  dark.  One  evening 
in  January  at  about  7.30  o'clock  I  heard  plainly 
just  outside  my  door  the  twittering,  trill-like 
call  of  an  ammo.  What  could  have  been  the 
occasion  for  his  being  out  at  such  a  time  must 
be  left  to  conjecture. 

Though  these  rodents  can  get  along  for  un- 
usually long  periods  without  water,  they  enjoy 
a  drink  as  well  as  almost  any  animal  when  they 
can  get  it.  On  the  warm,  dry  summer  days 
they  frequently  come  down  to  the  little  ditch 
below  my  dwelling  and,  catlike,  lap  up  the 
water.  Frequently  after  they  have  drank  they 
squat  down  on  the  sand  and  enjoy  the  shade 
of  the  mesquites.  Generally  they  take  a  belly- 
down  position  with  their  little  rear  legs  flat- 
tened out  behind  them.  This,  too,  is  the  posi- 
tion they  assume  when  during  the  heat  of  the 


THE  ANTELOPE  CHIPMUNK      105 

day  they  are  resting  under  the  cool  rock  ledges 
along  the  mountain  bases. 

As  one  rides  over  the  desert  one  often  hears 
the  ammos'  high-pitched,  quavering  call.  It  is 
so  shrill  and  so  prolonged  that  one  can  hardly 
believe  that  it  comes  from  so  tiny  an  animal. 
It  may  last  for  several  seconds  and  only  dimin- 
ish in  intensity  and  volume  during  the  last 
phase,  sounding  then  as  though  the  little  crea- 
ture who  makes  it  was  losing  his  last  vestige  of 
breath.  Since  the  call  carries  so  far  and  pos- 
sesses ventriloquistic  qualities,  it  is  exceedingly 
untrustworthy  as  a  means  of  locating  the  ani- 
mal. 


THE  ROUND-TAILED  GROUND 

SQUIRREL  AND  NEAR 

RELATIVES 


THE  ROUND-TAILED  GROUND 

SQUIRREL  AND  NEAR 

RELATIVES 

(Citellus  tereticaudus) 

HE  went  out  that  morning  into  a  world  of 
plenty.  The  spring  rains  of  the  few  days  pre- 
vious had  sent  millions  of  seeds  to  sprouting, 
and  now  the  deserts  were  "coming  green"  again 
with  a  host  of  juicy  annuals.  Dainty  wild  flow- 
ers almost  literally  sprouted  and  bloomed  in 
a  day.  The  round-tailed  chipmunk  knew  his 
rich  feeding-time  had  come.  Summer,  autumn, 
and  winter  dry  food  had  been  good  enough  in 
their  time,  but  they  did  not  compare  with  the 
succulent  green  foods  that  came  with  the  spring. 
He,  like  the  Indian,  would  eat  in  the  day  of 
his  plenty,  and  on  this  particular  morning  his 
provident  nature  seemed  to  urge  him  to  special 
activity.  As  he  foraged  outward  from  the  site 
of  his  hole,  he  seemed  to  have  lost  all  sense  of 
stomach  capacity.  His  stomach  seemed  an  un- 
fillable  cavern,  and  he  stuffed  and  stuffed.  To 


no      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

be  sure,  he  felt  a  little  clumsy  as  his  sides  began 
to  swell,  but  what  of  that.  Was  it  not  the 
day  of  feasting  and  abandon?  Consequences 
could  now  go  to  the  four  winds,  at  least  for  once. 

Now,  there  are  times  when  even  a  wild 
creature  can  eat  too  much  and  be  too  greedy 
for  his  own  good.  The  round-tailed  chipmunk 
found  it  out  this  very  day  and  almost  paid  for 
his  feast  with  his  life. 

The  approach  of  a  coyote  who  was  foolishly 
nosing  about  had  sent  him  on  his  heels  toward 
one  of  the  holes  of  the  colony  to  which  he  be- 
longed. He  had  purposely  remained  fairly  close 
to  home;  for  he  was  aware  of  the  danger  that 
accompanied  distant  excursions.  His  prowess 
as  a  runner  had  always  been  good  and  he  now 
trusted  his  legs  to  take  him  to  his  hole  in  a 
hurry.  But,  alas,  he  had  taken  on  too  much 
"ballast."  His  distended  stomach  made  it 
almost  impossible  for  him  to  drag  himself  away. 
However,  his  sense  of  extreme  danger  spurred 
him  on  to  unusual  activity  and  he  finally 
reached  his  hole.  But  now,  but  now,  just  when  he 
thought  himself  about  to  safety,  he  found  that 
though  the  nose  and  neck  went  down  the  hole 


GROUND  SQUIRRELS  111 

made  in  the  day  of  his  leanness,  his  fat,  over- 
filled, pendent  belly  would  not  come  on  in  after 
him.  And  the  coyote  right  behind!  He  wiggled, 
he  squeezed,  he  scratched  and  pawed  and  gave 
a  whistling  squeal,  but  that  little  round  ball  of  a 
body  could  not  be  made  to  fit  the  small  hole. 
Realizing  his  plight  he  now  threw  himself  back- 
ward, and  rushed  to  another  hole.  As  luck 
would  have  it,  this  second  hole  was  better 
suited  to  his  need,  and  down  he  went,  one  last 
flop  of  his  tail  all  the  coyote  saw  of  this  fear- 
stricken,  round-tailed  chipmunk. 

The  vernacular  name,  "round-tailed  chip- 
munk," given  to  this  animal  on  account  of 
its  small  size,  is  a  misnomer;  the  proper  name 
is  round- tailed  ground  squirrel.  So  wary  are 
these  animals  that  people  often  travel  for  days 
through  the  desert  and  never  even  suspect 
their  presence.  They  are  exceedingly  shy  crea- 
tures and  scurry  to  their  holes  at  the  first  ap- 
proach of  a  stranger.  Considerable  patience 
and  much  sitting  still  is  required  if  you  wish  to 
observe  them.  About  all  the  average  desert 
traveler  ever  sees  of  them  is  occasionally  a  little 
gray  or  brownish  form  scuttling  down  a  hole, 


112      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

or  once  in  a  while  an  adventuresome  individual 
in  a  mesquite  tree  harvesting  blossoms.  There 
is  nothing  prepossessing  in  the  appearance  of 
the  round-tailed  ground  squirrels.  The  ear 
conchs  are  so  narrow  as  to  be  mere  rims,  and 
this  gives  the  head  a  sort  of  roundish,  bald 
aspect.  The  tail  is  quite  bare  of  hairs  and  the 
pelage  is  almost  always  coarse.  Nevertheless, 
we  must  account  them  interesting  little  crea- 
tures because  of  the  unique  place  they  occupy 
among  the  small  mammals  of  the  arid  regions 
of  the  extreme  Southwest. 

Of  the  several  species  inhabiting  the  desert 
region,  the  Death  Valley  ground  squirrel  has 
the  distinction  of  occupying  a  region  wholly 
below  sea  level  in  the  lowest,  hottest  place  on 
our  continent,  a  habitat  such  as  no  other  North 
American  rodent  can  boast  of.  The  Yuma 
round-tailed  ground  squirrel  dwells  in  the  low- 
lying,  sandy  region  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Colo- 
rado River  in  California,  and  the  Imperial 
Valley  north  to  the  Salton  Sea.  The  north- 
western arm  of  the  Colorado  Desert,  from  the 
Salton  Sea  to  the  San  Gorgonio  Pass,  is  inhab- 
ited by  the  Palm  Springs  round-tailed  ground 


GROUND  SQUIRRELS  113 

squirrel.  Each  species  thus  occupies  a  very 
definite  area;  and  neither  trespasses  on  the 
ground  occupied  by  the  other. 

The  narrow,  troughlike  depression  now 
known  as  the  Colorado  Desert  of  California 
was  once  a  portion  of  the  bed  of  the  Gulf  of 
Lower  California.  Then  as  now  the  Colorado 
River,  brown  with  its  heavy  sediments  of  silt, 
was  emptying  its  waters  into  the  Gulf  and 
pushing  its  delta  across  the  narrow  sea  valley. 
In  time  the  sediments  were  deposited  in  such 
quantities  that  the  stream  built  up  for  itself  a 
channel  higher  than  the  waters  of  the  Gulf  it- 
self. Not  only  this  was  done,  but  the  delta  was 
built  out  sufficiently  far  to  divide  the  narrow 
arm  of  the  ocean  into  two  parts,  one  part  still 
opening  into  the  ocean,  and  the  other  part 
forming  an  inland  sea.  This  latter  body  of 
water  is  known  to  geologists  as  the  Blake  Sea, 
it  having  been  named  in  honor  of  Professor 
William  P.  Blake  who  accompanied  the  expedi- 
tion which  first  satisfactorily  explored  the  re- 
gion. The  isolated  waters  of  the  inland  sea  soon 
began  to  dry  up  under  the  intense  heat  of  the 
desert  sun,  and,  as  they  receded  from  the  moun- 


114      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

tain  borders  at  the  northwestern  end  of  the 
sink,  there  came  to  exist  there  a  large,  flat,  iso- 
lated area  separated  from  the  other  adjacent 
regions  by  high  mountains  and  the  remaining 
waters  of  the  great  Blake  Sea.  The  animals  and 
plants  which  came  to  occupy  this  region,  being 
cut  off  from  others  of  their  kind  by  natural 
barriers,  in  many  cases  finally  developed  char- 
acters peculiar  to  themselves,  and  in  some  in- 
stances these  characters  became  sufficiently 
marked  to  form  new  species.  The  Palm  Springs 
ground  squirrel  was  one  of  these  animals  that 
have  shown  in  marked  manner  the  effects  of 
this  isolation.  Although  the  ancient  Blake  Sea 
has  dried  up  and  the  recently  formed  Salton 
Sea  is  the  only  physical  feature  restraining  the 
general  distribution  of  the  ground  squirrel  over 
the  sands  of  the  entire  Salton  Sink,  yet  he  clings 
to  his  ancient  home  and  maintains  his  identity 
as  a  distinct  species  of  the  northwestern  arm  of 
the  Colorado  Desert. 


ELEODES,  THE  BEETLE  THAT  STANDS 
ON  HIS  HEAD 


ELEODES,  THE  BEETLE  THAT  STANDS 

ON  HIS  HEAD 

(Eleodes  sp.) 

ANY  one  who  has  traveled  much  in  the  region 
west  of  the  Mississippi,  especially  in  the  South- 
western United  States  or  Lower  California, 
must  have  often  seen  the  curiously  behaved  and 
pungent-odored  pinacate  beetles  or  tumble- 
bugs  (Eleodes).  These  interesting,  black-bod- 
ied, hard-shelled  beetles  are  so  prevalent  in  one 
part  of  Mexico  that  a  mountain  range  and  the 
whole  surrounding  region  has  taken  its  name 
from  them.  I  refer  to  the  Pinacate  mountain 
country  of  Sonora. 

The  outstanding  feature  of  interest  in  respect 
to  these  creatures  is  their  habit  when  alarmed 
or  disturbed  of  elevating  their  bodies  and  lit- 
erally standing  on  their  heads.  If  excited  too 
much  while  on  the  run,  they  will  frequently  tip 
themselves  up  vertically  so  quickly  that  they 
tumble  heels  over  head,  often  landing  on  their 
backs.  They  then  will  either  feign  death  or 


ii8      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

turn  over  quickly  and  try  to  make  away  as 
hurriedly  as  possible  —  their  second  hurried 
run  often  ending  in  another  somersault  as 
ludicrous  as  the  first.  It  is  not  surprising  that 
the  children  often  call  them  "circus  bugs." 

I  recently  spent  several  hours  trying  to  find 
out  just  exactly  how  Eleodes,  the  tumblebug, 
rights  himself  so  effectively  and  quickly  when 
after  a  tumble  he  lands  on  his  back.  The  per- 
formance is  done  so  rapidly  that  it  takes  some 
patience  to  find  out  the  order  of  procedure; 
but  when  one  wants  to  find  out  movements 
employed  in  so  adept  a  trick  he  cares  little 
about  time. 

And  now  this  is  the  way  it  is  done.  The  two 
middle  (second  pair)  legs  are  straightened  out 
downward,  thus  elevating  the  inverted  beetle 
off  the  ground.  When  the  body  is  well  propped 
up,  one  of  the  rigid  legs  is  suddenly  elbowed  so 
that  the  insect  quickly  goes  down  on  one  side, 
and  a  rotary  movement  is  started.  A  slight 
heave  now  given  by  the  rear  third  foot  on  the 
opposite  side  sends  the  insect  over,  and  away 
the  beetle  runs. 

But  sometimes  Rhodes  is  not  so  awkward  that 


ELEODES  THE  BEETLE  119 

he  tumbles  over,  and  then  you  see  him  assume 
the  head  down  position  and  stay  in  that  attitude 
for  minutes  at  a  time,  so  long  that  you  would 
judge  him  weary  beyond  endurance.  He  gen- 
erally waits  until  you  go  your  way  and  then 
scuttles  under  cover. 

The  actions  of  this  beetle  that  kicks  his  heels 
into  the  air  are  explained  to  the  satisfaction  of 
the  Zuni  Indians  in  a  curious  little  folk- tale 
entitled  "The  Coyote  and  the  Beetle. "  I  give 
it  as  told  by  Mr.  Frank  Gushing  in  his  charming 
"Zuni  Folk-Tales": 

Well,  in  ancient  times  on  the  pathway  leading 
around  Fat  Mountain,  there  was  one  of  these 
beetles  running  about  in  all  directions  in  the  sun- 
shine when  a  Coyote  came  trotting  along.  He 
pricked  up  his  ears,  lowered  his  nose,  arched  his 
neck,  and  struck  out  his  paw  toward  the  Beetle. 

"Ha!"  said  he,  "I  shall  bite  you!" 

The  Beetle  immediately  struck  his  head  down 
close  to  the  ground,  and,  lifting  his  antennae, 
deprecatingly  exclaimed,  "Hold  on!  Hold  on, 
friend !  Wait  a  bit,  for  the  love  of  mercy !  I  hear 
something  very  strange  down  here!" 

"Humph!"  cried  the  Coyote.  "What  do  you 
hear?" 

"Hush!  Hush!"  cried  the  Beetle,  with  his  head 
still  to  the  ground.  "Listen!" 


120      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

So  the  Coyote  drew  back  and  listened  most 
attentively.  By  and  by  the  Beetle  lifted  himself 
with  a  long  sigh  of  relief. 

"Okwe!"  exclaimed  the  Coyote.  "What  was 
going  on?" 

"The  GOOD  SOUL  save  us!"  exclaimed  the  Beetle 
with  a  shake  of  his  head.  "I  have  heard  them  say- 
ing down  there  that  to-morrow  they  would  chase 
away  and  thoroughly  chastise  everybody  who  de- 
filed the  public  trails  of  this  country,  and  they  are 
making  ready  as  fast  as  they  can!" 

"Souls  of  my  ancestors!"  cried  the  Coyote.  "I 
have  been  loitering  along  the  trail  this  very  morn- 
ing, and  have  defiled  it  repeatedly.  I'll  cut!" 
And  away  he  ran  as  fast  as  he  could  go. 

The  Beetle  in  pure  exuberance  of  spirits  turned 
somersaults  and  struck  his  head  in  the  sand  until 
it  was  quite  turned. 

Thus  did  the  Beetle  in  the  days  of  the  ancients 
save  himself  from  being  bitten.  .  .  .  Thus  shortens 
my  story. 

Though  often  spoken  of  as  a  bug,  this  insect 
is  a  true  beetle.  We  know  this  because  he  chews 
his  food  and  has  hard  horny  wing  covers.  Bugs 
always  suck  their  food  through  a  long,  needle- 
like  proboscis,  or  beak,  and  they  have  soft  wing 
covers.  One  day  I  became  curious  to  know  what 
was  under  the  high  arched  wing  covers  of  the 
tumblebug.  A  dissection  revealed  that  a  great 


' 


g 

u 

Q    u 
W    3 


^  w  i 

K   •-  5 


aise 

S§f 


w  r  5 

Q    ft  '^ 


ELEODES  THE  BEETLE  121 

hollow  air-filled  space  took  up  most  of  the  room, 
and  that  only  a  very  little  place  was  given  for 
the  abdomen.  This  explained  to  me  why  I  had 
always  been  deceived  when  I  attempted  to 
judge  the  weight  of  the  tumblebug  by  his  size. 

The  food  of  these  beetles  is  largely  dried 
vegetation  and  fungi.  This  is  true  both  in  the 
larval  and  in  the  adult  stages;  hence  I  cannot 
see  any  special  virtue  in  ending  their  lives  by 
stepping  on  every  one  one  sees,  as  is  the  habit 
with  some  unthinking  and  cruel  people.  The 
pinacate  beetles,  as  they  are  often  called  in  the 
Southwestern  United  States  and  Mexico,  ex- 
hibit a  good  deal  of  dexterity  in  eating  their 
food.  Time  and  time  again  I  have  seen  them 
hold  a  food  morsel  down  to  the  ground  with  one 
foot,  much  as  a  dog  does  his  bone,  while  gnaw- 
ing it.  Also  I  have  seen  them  take  up  a  piece 
of  food  and  run  away  with  it  when  disturbed, 
holding  it  up  with  their  two  front  feet  as  they 
made  away. 

There  seems  to  be  no  place  too  desolate  or 
sunscorched  for  these  creatures  to  live  in.1  On 

1  My  notebook  records  the  finding  of  these  insects  on  the 
very  summit  of  San  Gorgonio  Peak  (11,485  feet),  a  fact  which 
shows  their  wide  altitudinal  distribution. 


122      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

my  journeys  across  the  bleakest  wind-swept 
sands  of  the  deserts,  where  the  very  minimum 
of  animal  life  was  existent,  and  where  few  spe- 
cies of  even  the  hardiest  xerophytic  plants  eked 
out  a  miserable  round  of  life,  I  have  found  the 
pinacate  beetles  in  comparative  abundance. 
They  are  exceptionally  hardy  creatures  and 
even  in  such  untoward  places  live  to  be  several 
years  old;  at  least  this  many  be  said  of  the  more 
resistant  species.  Most  of  the  species  are  night 
wanderers,  but  many  are  abroad  in  the  scorch- 
ing light  of  the  desert  days. 


THE  MASON  BEES 


THE  MASON  BEES 
(Anthophora  sp.) 

As  I  turned  into  the  little  trail  and  climbed  the 
steep,  rock-strewn  slope  that  leads  up  to  the 
entrance  of  the  precipitous  canon  behind  my 
house,  the  herb-scented  winds  that  blew  so 
steadily  from  off  the  warm  sands  bore  to  me  the 
hum  of  industrious  bees.  Turning  expectantly, 
I  walked  back  to  my  right  a  short  distance,  and 
there  at  the  base  of  an  enormous  rock  I  found 
the  dry,  bare,  hard-baked  ground  covered  deep 
with  small  pellets  of  earth  resembling  worm 
castings,  and  riddled  with  the  holes  of  solitary 
bees.  So  many  were  the  burrows  that  the 
ground  looked  like  the  top  of  an  enormous 
pepper-box.  Above  were  thousands  of  busy  in- 
sects flying  about  —  a  bedazzling,  buzzing 
cloud  of  industry  that  almost  made  me  be- 
wildered as  I  looked  at  it.  I  took  it  for  granted 
that  the  bees  were  tolerant  creatures  and  too 
busy  to  give  me  much  attention  with  their 
stings,  and  in  this  confidence  I  was  not  disap- 


126      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

pointed.  In  order  to  see  them  to  greatest  ad- 
vantage I  got  right  down  on  my  hands  and 
knees,  and  much  of  the  time  held  my  face  and 
magnifying-glass  within  a  few  inches  of  the 
openings  of  the  burrows. 

I  soon  succeeded  in  locating  among  the  cloud 
of  diligent  bees  one  that  was  trying  to  find  a 
site  for  her  nest.  In  making  this  determination 
she  was  aided  by  her  antennae,  with  which  she 
was  stroking  the  adamantine  earth.  She  seemed 
restless,  and  often  made  circling  flights  above 
the  place  she  was  inspecting.  When  once  she 
had  decided  upon  a  site,  she  began  immediate 
operations  on  the  burrow  by  squirting  saliva 
from  her  proboscis  upon  the  ground  in  much  the 
same  fashion  that  a  Chinaman  squirts  water 
from  his  mouth  when  sprinkling  clothes  at  the 
laundry.  This  gave  her  a  sort  of  human  look 
that  was  most  amusing.  With  the  aid  of  the 
dexterous  mandibles  she  took  up  the  soil, 
quickly  made  it  into  small  pellets,  and  then 
clawed  these  out  with  the  forefeet.  Again  she 
squirted  saliva  —  several  jets  of  it  —  and  more 
earth  was  scraped  out. 

The  work  of  throwing  out  the  earthen  pellets 


THE  MASON  BEES 


127 


seemed  to  be  an  easy  task  for  her  until  the  hole 
was  over  "bee  deep."  But  after  the  hole  grew 
deeper  our  excavator  found  the  task  so  difficult 
that  she  had  to  adopt  new  tactics.  So  now  she 
began  throwing  the  earth  beneath  her  and  out 
of  the  hole  with  her  rear  legs.  One  could  not 
help  comparing  her  motions  with  those  of  a  dog 
digging  an  animal  from  its  hole.  To  keep  the 
tube  well  rounded  I  could  see  her  constantly 
turning  her  body  this  way  and  that,  as  she 
worked  now  on  one  side  and  then  on  the  other. 
The  edges  of  the  burrow  and  of  the  cylindrical 
tubular  case  itself  were  smoothed  and  made  firm 
by  the  constant  application  of  wax,  secreted 
from  glands  on  her  own  body,  and  squirting  on 
of  saliva.  When  the  tube  was  completed,  she 
built  about  the  orifice  a  small  circular  collar  of 
mortar  which  she  compounded  of  particles  of 
earth,  minute  pieces  of  gravel,  and  her  own 
saliva,  so  that  the  hollow,  cistern-like  cell 
looked  very  much  like  an  old-fashioned  well 
with  its  round  curb,  or  coaming,  about  the 
opening.  Ten  minutes  after  it  was  made,  I  was 
amazed  to  find  that  this  cement  had  set  so  hard 
and  had  become  so  rigid  that,  although  I  did 


128      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

my  best  to  crush  the  little  collar  between  my 
thumb  and  forefinger,  I  found  it  impossible;  and 
the  circular  curb  was  less  than  an  eighth  of  an 
inch  thick !  The  bee's  success  as  a  cement-maker 
must  ever  remain  a  recurring  wonder  to  man. 

All  the  time  our  mason  was  working  on  her 
cell  she  had  to  be  on  the  lookout  for  the  lazy 
bees  who  were  trying  to  snatch  an  opportunity 
to  get  possession  of  a  cell  without  doing  the 
necessary  work  of  making  it.  The  sense  of 
proprietorship  was  very  strongly  developed  in 
this  bee,  and,  when  any  other  bee  came  too 
near  her  domicile,  she  hustled  her  off  her 
premises  in  a  hurry.  Often  she  jumped  upon 
the  trespasser  and  with  stinging  arguments 
engaged  her  in  a  rough-and-tumble  fight,  the 
two  bees  rolling  over  and  over  in  the  dust  while 
it  was  going  on. 

When  complete,  the  mason's  burrow  was 
about  two  inches  deep.  It  went  straight  down- 
ward at  first  for  about  an  inch  and  then  curved 
slightly  to  one  side.  This  last  part,  which  was 
to  hold  the  honey  and  the  egg,  was  a  little 
larger  than  the  tube  above  it  and  much  re- 
sembled a  small  pocket. 


THE  MASON  BEES  129 

That  most  beautiful  of  all  our  salvias,  the 
thistle  sage,  was  growing  plentifully  in  the 
vicinity  and  spreading  "abroad  over  the  desert 
the  glory  of  its  ethereal,  lilac-blue  blossoms. 
To  these  honey-laden  flowers  the  mother  bee 
now  made  constant  trips,  for  from  these  she 
must  get  the  sweet  nectar  and  pollen  that  make 
the  molasses- like  paste  on  which  the  grubs  are 
fed.  Thousands  of  other  bees  were  engaged  in 
the  same  necessary  industry  and  the  air  about 
was  filled  with  the  humming  of  the  zealous 
workers.  The  mother  early  provisioned  her  cell 
with  a  store  of  honey  and  pollen,  mixing  the 
paste  according  to  the  "inveterate  and  fixed 
routine  of  her  ancestors  " ;  always  the  honey  was 
disgorged  from  the  mouth,  and  then  the  pollen 
brushed  off  the  hairs  beneath  the  body,  and  the 
two  substances  mixed.  The  paste  filled  the 
burrow  almost  half  full,  and  on  this  the  minute 
egg  was  laid. 

Now  began  the  work  of  sealing  up  the  cell. 
This  was  accomplished  by  laying  in  a  thick 
concave  plug  of  pure  hard  wax.  This  complete, 
the  bee  began,  to  my  surprise,  excavating  all 
about  underneath  the  little  earthen  collar  about 


130      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

the  entrance  of  the  hole  —  the  collar,  which  at 
such  an  expense  of  care  and  labor,  she  had 
built  but  a  few  minutes  before.  Never  did  she 
leave  her  exertions  until  the  beautiful  coaming, 
now  undermined,  fell  into  the  pit  she  had  made, 
broken  forever.  In  the  case  of  some  of  the  other 
bees  I  watched,  the  small  ring  of  mortar  was 
loosened  and  carried  off  in  sections  just  before 
it  caved  in. 

The  time  was  now  ripe  for  making  a  final 
filling  of  the  opening  above  the  wax  plug; 
for  not  a  sign  of  the  burrow  must  remain  to 
lure  parasites  to  the  precious  honey  treasure 
beneath.  The  mother  bee  accordingly  went 
about  the  edge  of  the  hole  and  scraped  earth 
into  it  until  full.  Again  so  near  were  her  mo- 
tions like  those  of  a  dog  burying  his  bone 
that  it  was  hard  to  realize  that  this  small  crea- 
ture was  an  insect  and  not  some  diminutive 
mammal. 

This  was  but  one  of  several  burrows  that 
this  mother  and  her  consorts  made  in  similar 
manner.  Hour  after  hour  for  several  days  the 
industry  of  burrow  excavating,  provisioning, 
and  sealing  was  plied,  and  never  ceased  until 


THE  MASON  BEES  131 

the  sun  sank  low  beyond  the  mountains  and 
the  last  rays  of  the  evening  lights  tinted  with 
their  afterglow  the  desert  plain  and  its  border- 
ing hills. 

Weary  with  the  arduous  labors  of  the  day 
those  bees  whose  domiciles  were  not  yet  com- 
plete, corked  the  entrances  to  their  burrows 
with  their  own  bodies,  placing  them  in  upside 
down  position  with  only  the  tip  of  their  abdo- 
mens protruding.  Thus  did  they  guard  their 
honey  treasures  from  the  night  marauders  and 
noxious  parasites. 

As  soon  as  the  sunshine  of  the  morning  came 
to  warm  up  their  chilled  and  stiffened  bodies, 
they  were  again  at  work.  Those  who  had  com- 
pleted their  cells  the  night  before  were  now 
fashioning  new  ones,  and  those  who  had  incom- 
plete burrows  were  busy  putting  on  the  finish- 
ing touches.  Each  bee  lays  from  eight  to  ten 
eggs,  and  for  every  egg  a  cell  was  made  and  pro- 
visioned with  the  honey  paste. 

After  the  third  day  the  burrows  were  all 
complete  and  the  adamantine  ground  looked 
almost  as  it  had  before.  The  bees  had  aban- 
doned the  scene  of  their  labors  and  doubtless 


132      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

were  never  to  see  it  again,  nor  the  offspring 
that  should  later  emerge  to  take  their  turn  at 
the  brief  space  of  life  allotted  to  the  solitary 
bees. 


THE  DESERT  BIGHORN  AND  NEAR 
RELATIVES 


THE  DESERT JBIGHORN  AND  NEAR 
RELATIVES 

(Ovis  nelsoni1) 

IN  the  most  inaccessible  canons,  and  on  the 
rugged,  barren,  and  desolate  heights  of  those 
isolated  mountains  of  mystic  solitude  which 
thrust  their  serrated  pinnacles  and  roughened 
shoulders  upward  from  the  level  of  the  desert 
plains,  dwells  the  largest  and  most  majestic 
of  desert  animals,  the  desert  bighorn.  It  seems 
strange  that  this  near  cousin  of  our  Rocky 
Mountain  bighorn  should  find  conditions  con- 
genial to  his  tastes  in  an  almost  waterless  land 
whose  summers  exhibit  an  unusual  number  of 

1  Until  quite  recently  all  of  the  Far  Western  desert  bighorns, 
including  those  which  occupy  the  mountains  of  northern  Lower 
California,  were  thought  to  belong  to  the  species  nelsoni,  but 
now  it  is  shown  that  the  sheep  occupying  the  Lower  California 
highlands  belong  to  the  species  cremnobates.  The  Nelson  big- 
horn, the  true  specimen  of  which  was  taken  by  Mr.  E.  W.  Nel- 
son, of  the  Biological  Survey,  on  the  Grapevine  Mountains  of 
California,  is  the  dominant  species  of  western  Nevada  and 
eastern  California.  The  foi^m  found  in  the  low  desert  ranges 
south  of  the  Gila  and  east  of  the  Colorado  River  in  Arizona 
and  northern  Sonora  are  referred  to  the  subspecies  gaillardi  of 
the  Rocky  Mountain  bighorn. 


136      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

days  whose  temperature  reaches  a  hundred 
degrees  or  more.  But  he  is  the  hardy  frontiers- 
man of  his  race,  enjoying,  like  our  Western  set- 
tlers and  adventurers  of  the  early  days,  the 
bufferings  of  the  stern  elements  and  the  free- 
dom of  the  wild  places.  Among  all  his  kinsmen, 
it  is  he  that  has  ventured  farthest  southwest 
from  the  original  ancestral  home  in  the  elevated 
plateaus  and  mountains  of  Turkestan. 

The  male  desert  bighorn,  with  his  stocky 
body,  noble,  splendidly  poised  head,  and  mas- 
sive, gracefully  curled  horns,  is  a  picture  of 
animal  vigor.  There  is  an  appearance  of  natural 
composure  and  dignity  about  him  that  must 
compel  the  attention  of  the  most  disinterested 
observer.  He  is  somewhat  smaller  in  size  and 
paler  in  color  than  the  Rocky  Mountain  big- 
horn, but  a  no  less  imposing  creature.  A  full- 
grown  individual  is  as  large  as  a  third-grown 
heifer,  and  may  measure  close  to  sixty  inches 
From  point  of  nose  to  tip  of  tail.  As  is  usual 
among  wild  sheep,  the  female  is  smaller  than 
the  ram  and  the  horns  are  much  reduced. 
Stephens  gives  the  average  weights  of  an  adult 
male  and  female  Nelson  bighorn  as  two  hun- 


fc  £ 

§§ 

PH     b 


THE  DESERT  BIGHORN  137 

dred  and  fifty  and  one  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds  respectively. 

Few  animals  support  a  head  as  heavy  in  pro- 
portion to  the  size  of  the  body.  A  head  and 
neck  I  have  before  me  as  I  write  weighed  forty 
pounds  when  taken.  The  cores  of  the  great 
horns  are  made  of  almost  solid  bone,  and  these 
add  greatly,  of  course,  to  the  weight  of  the 
rigidly  built  skull.  Imagine  if  you  can  the 
nature  of  the  impact  of  such  a  battering  organ 
when  driven  forward  by  the  strong  body  engine. 
Is  it  strange  that  in  the  battles  which  take  place 
for  the  possession  of  the  ewes  necks  are  broken 
and  lives  exacted? 

The  growth  of  the  horns  of  wild  sheep  is  a 
curious  phenomenon  which  has  attracted  the 
interest  of  naturalists  for  many  years.  The 
bony  vascular  core  borne  on  the  frontal  bone  is 
permanent,  but  its  covering  is  renewed  from 
time  to  time  by  the  growth  of  a  new  sheath  of 
cornified  epidermis.  This  new  cone  of  horny 
tissue  is  formed  on  the  surface  of  the  bony  core, 
and  as  it  thickens,  the  growth  of  the  preceding 
season  is  pushed  outward  toward  the  end  of  the 
horn.  Since  the  horn-sheath  is  not  shed  at  any 


138      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

regular  time,  but  slowly  splits  off  and  wears 
away  through  contact  with  the  brush  and  rocks 
(the  oldest  always  going  first),  there  is  found  at 
any  time  the  remains  of  many  seasons'  horn 
production,  each  marked  by  a  ring  showing 
where  the  cornified  growth  of  the  preceding 
season  broke  loose  at  the  root  as  it  was  pushed 
outward  toward  the  apex  of  the  horn.  Desert 
sheep  are  rarely  to  be  found  without  broken 
horns.  This,  according  to  one  authority,  is 
due  to  the  fact  that  they  use  them  in  seasons 
to  drought  for  prying  among  the  rocks  and 
boulders  in  search  of  certain  succulent  bulbs 
which  serve  them  as  thirst-quenchers  until  the 
springs  are  replenished  and  flow  again. 

Flocks  of  bighorns  must  of  necessity  occupy 
pretty  well-defined  areas  contiguous  to  the  in- 
frequently found  water-holes  and  springs.  They 
generally  come  to  the  tinajas  or  tanks  to  drink 
in  the  late  afternoon  or  evening.  The  waters  of 
the  smaller  springs  are  often  heavily  impreg- 
nated with  mineral  salts,  but  that  found  in  the 
tanks  —  as  the  natural  reservoirs  of  the  desert 
canons  are  called  —  is  pure  and  delicious,  the 
supply  being  renewed  by  every  rain.  These 


THE  DESERT  BIGHORN  139 

deep,  rocky,  gravel-filled  basins  are  nearly  al- 
ways located  just  below  some  high  "dry  fall," 
and  the  sheep  must  often  approach  them  over 
steep,  tortuous  paths.  This  is  a  decided  ad- 
vantage to  them,  as  it  gives  them  an  oppor- 
tunity to  note  the  presence  of  enemies  before 
descending  for  water. 

There  are  no  definite  migrations  among  big- 
horns except  the  vertical  ones.  At  the  approach 
of  winter  the  sheep  living  in  the  higher  moun- 
tain ranges,  such  as  the  Funeral,  Santa  Rosa, 
and  Providence  Mountains,  descend  to  the 
lower  rocky  foothills  and  mesas  adjacent  to  the 
desert  plains  to  feed  on  the  galetta  grass;  but 
they  go  no  farther.  They  know  better  than  to 
abandon  rough  grounds,  for  it  is  only  on  such 
surfaces  that  they  are  able  adequately  to  pro- 
tect themselves  and  their  young  from  the 
persecutions  of  coyotes  and  man.  Sheep  have 
been  known  to  cross  the  open  desert,  but,  as 
Dr.  M earns  observed,  they  are  probably  at 
such  times  passing  from  one  mountain  range  to 
another. 

When  spring  arrives  the  flocks  work  upward 
to  the  zone  just  below  the  pinons.  At  this 


140      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

season  and  during  the  summer  the  tender  twigs 
of  teamster's  tea  (Ephedra)  and  the  new  leaves 
of  the  buckthorn,  rhus,  and  other  shrubs  are 
eaten  in  preference  to  grass.  When  I  ques- 
tioned the  Indians  concerning  the  summer  food 
of  the  desert  sheep,  they  almost  invariably  told 
me  that  the  bighorns  then  ate  many  barrel 
cactuses,  breaking  them  open  with  their  horns. 
This  I  can  readily  believe,  for  I  have  often  seen 
evidences  of  their  banquets  in  the  kitchen 
middens  about  the  bases  of  the  mutilated  cac- 
tuses. 

The  single  young  is  brought  forth  in  March. 
By  this  time  the  ewes  have  retired  to  places  of 
seclusion,  selected  because  of  their  inaccessi- 
bility to  predacious  animals.  The  mothers  with 
their  young  are  always  exceedingly  alert,  watch- 
ful, and  sagacious,  and  from  their  favored  posi- 
tions they  can  easily  detect  the  oncoming  of  a 
gunman  or  other  enemy.  When  approached 
they  may  allow  their  impelling  curiosity  to  hold 
them  for  a  while,  but  at  the  proper  time  they 
quietly  drop  over  the  edge  of  the  prominences 
which  they  have  been  occupying  and  by  the 
time  the  pursuer  has  reached  their  former  post 


THE  DESERT  BIGHORN  141 

they  are  far  out  of  sight.  They  are  very  active 
and  sure-footed  animals,  their  capacity  for 
exertion  is  almost  illimitable,  and  on  such 
occasions  they  do  not  hesitate  to  descend  by 
seemingly  impossible  leaps  to  the  shelf-like 
ledges  far  down  the  steep  walls  of  the  slotlike 
gorges  of  their  mountain  home.  The  lambs  are 
able  to  follow  their  parents  down  the  steepest 
cliffs  without  the  least  difficulty.  To  pursue 
the  sheep  to  such  dizzy  positions  is  almost 
impossible  or  too  laborious  and  hazardous  for 
the  most  brave-hearted  gunmen. 

There  is  something  incredible  in  the  story 
that  bighorns  in  jumping  over  cliffs  alight  on 
their  horns,  and  those  who  have  really  become 
acquainted  with  these  animals  in  their  wild 
home  will  not  venture  to  tell  such  tales  about 
them.  In  fact,  such  persons  are  emphatic  in 
their  denials  of  such  foolish  and  fanciful  state- 
ments. 

Almost  incessant  hunting  by  Indians,  pros- 
pectors, and  lawless  professional  hunters  has 
so  reduced  the  original  bands  of  desert  sheep 
that  few  large  flocks  remain.  The  automobile 
has  now  enabled  the  undiscriminating  city 


142      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

hunters  to  get  back  into  remote  mountain 
ranges  where  until  lately  the  sheep  had  at  least 
some  immunity  from  molestation  because  of 
their  isolation.  The  hunters  who  go  into  the 
desert  by  automobile  are  too  often  unwilling  to 
hunt  in  real  sportsmanlike  manner,  and  they 
resort  to  the  most  miserable  and  contemptible 
means  for  bringing  in  their  game.  Having  sup- 
plied themselves  with  plenty  of  ammunition 
(generally  enough,  as  one  old-timer  said,  to  kill 
all  the  sheep  between  Death  Valley  and  the 
Mexican  border),  tobacco,  and  grub,  they  locate 
a  water-hole  to  which  the  sheep  are  accustomed 
to  resort,  and  then  wait  for  the  sheep  to  come  in 
to  drink.  Often  they  care  nothing  for  the  age 
or  sex  of  the  animals,  and  an  indiscriminate 
slaughter  of  the  young  and  females  through 
many  seasons  is  bringing  its  sure  result  —  a 
gradual  extinction  of  one  of  our  noblest  desert 
animals.  It  is  remarkable  that  the  sheep  have 
held  their  own  as  well  as  they  have. 


DON  COYOTE 


DON  COYOTE 

(Canis  ochropus  estor) 

WHETHER  out  of  curiosity  or  contempt  every- 
body seems  to  be  interested  in  the  ways  and 
doings  of  the  clever  coyote.  His  ability  to  raid 
hen-roosts  successfully  without  being  caught, 
and  his  cunning  in  combination  with  his  seem- 
ing cowardice,  have  brought  him  into  dis- 
repute among  all  people.  Perhaps  no  Western 
animal  has  had  so  many  cursings  breathed  upon 
him. 

And  if  he  is  held  in  contempt  among  men, 
what  must  his  social  standing  among  animals 
be!  Surely  none  of  them  love  him.  I  have 
watched  too  many  merry  waltzings  of  the 
kangaroo  rats  on  the  moonlit  sands  broken  up 
by  his  approach,  seen  where  too  many  mouse 
homes  have  been  dug  out  and  destroyed,  wit- 
nessed rabbits  escape  capture  too  often  to 
have  any  doubts  as  to  just  what  they  must 
think  of  him.  Even  the  dog,  his  nearest  cousin, 
ordinarily  disavows  any  relation  to  him  and 


146      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

snarls  and  barks  savagely  at  him  when  he  comes 
near  him  on  the  hunt.  It  is  not  strange  that 
in  the  Southwestern  Indian  folk-tales,  wherein 
the  coyote  figures  so  largely,  the  smaller  ani- 
mals make  him  the  butt  of  so  many  jokes  and 
that  they  give  him  so  little  sympathy  in  all  his 
troubles. 

Like  an  outlaw  the  coyote  is  a  wanderer  ever 
on  the  move  and  swift  of  foot.  He  makes  his 
miserable  home  among  the  rocks  of  the  shrubby 
hills  or  seeks  shelter  in  holes  made  in  the  steep 
banks  of  barrancas  or  washes  leading  down  from 
the  mountains.  In  these  retreats  he  spends  his 
days,  but  when  the  first  stars  are  beginning  to 
show  themselves  he  comes  out  of  his  hole, 
shakes  his  dusty  coat,  and,  after  giving  a  few 
short,  ringing,  yapping  barks  to  announce  him- 
self to  his  comrades,  sets  forth  on  the  long  hunt- 
ing excursions  of  the  night.  These  journeys  are 
often  of  remarkable  length,  it  being  not  uncom- 
mon for  him  to  travel  ten  or  twenty  miles  out 
across  the  desert  and  back  again  before  sunrise 
and  breakfast. 

It  is  both  interesting  and  amusing  to  follow 
the  tracks  of  this  shiftless,  seemingly  homeless 


DESERT  LYNX 


COYOTE  AT  BAY 


DON  COYOTE  147 

fellow  over  the  sandy  dunes,  watching  where  he 
goes,  now  in  a  straight  course,  now  running  out 
of  his  way  to  smell  down  some  rat  hole,  then 
again  going  with  an  aimless  gait  on  and  on  over 
the  sands  until  again  arrested  by  some  silly 
curiosity.  The  position  of  the  track-marks 
made  on  these  unhurried  excursions  often  shows 
that  he  runs  somewhat  sidewise,  as  is  common 
with  little  dogs,  to  prevent  his  feet  from  hit- 
ting. When  you  see  where  he  has  been  on  the 
swift  chase,  signs  of  this  peculiar  gait  are  not 
apparent. 

Sometimes  when  hunger  drives  him  to  it  the 
coyote  is  out  and  on  the  hunt  during  the  day, 
and  occasionally  then  you  will  get  a  good  look 
at  him  and  see  him  chasing  his  game.  The 
larger  animals  like  the  rabbits  he  obtains  by 
running  them  down  in  the  open  where  there  is 
little  chance  for  them  to  elude  him.  What  mice 
and  wood  rats  are  not  obtainable  on  the  chase 
are  dug  from  their  holes  and  gobbled  up  before 
they  have  time  to  escape.  The  coyote's  meddle- 
some nose  leads  him  to  many  a  clutch  of  quail's 
eggs,  and  he  leaves  nothing  to  tell  of  his  visit 
but  broken  shells  and  a  yolk-stained  nest. 


148      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

Beetles  and  grasshoppers,  horned  lizards,  and 
even  the  bitter-skinned  toads  are  used  for  food. 
In  spite  of  his  bad  odor,  the  skunk  is  preyed 
upon.  The  coyote's  strong  appetite  for  young 
pigs,  chickens,  and  sheep  is  an  impulse  which 
leads  him  to  the  rashest  butchery,  so  that  not 
without  cause  is  he  almost  universally  declared 
by  "cowmen "-to  be  the  " worst  varmint  that 
infests  the  earth.1'  Once  having  tasted  blood, 
he  seems  to  lose  all  sense  of  prudence  and  of 
fear,  and  he  comes  about  the  ranch  yards  in 
the  broad  light  of  day  and  walks  boldly  among 
the  cattle  pens  awaiting  his  chance  to  seize 
any  unsuspecting  fowl  or  young  pig  which  in 
search  of  food  may  have  wandered  too  far  away 
from  the  barns. 

During  years  of  terrible  drought,  when  the 
springs  dry  up  in  early  April  and  scarcely  a 
blade  of  grass  comes  up  to  provide  food  for 
the  hungry,  lean  cattle  that  wander  over  the 
hills,  the  coyotes  become  very  aggressive,  take 
advantage  of  the  weakness  of  the  mother  cows, 
and  snatch  the  young  calves  when  scarcely 
born.  If  a  calf  is  attacked  when  near  other 
cattle,  the  whole  herd,  hearing  the  bellowing 


DON  COYOTE  149 

of  the  mother,  will  likely  come  to  the  rescue 
and  charge  upon  the  murderer.  This,  the  coy- 
otes seemingly  know,  and  so  they  prefer  to 
find  some  miserable  cow  and  her  calf  out  alone 
on  the  range.  Even  full-grown  cattle  may  be 
attacked  when  through  weakness  and  thirst 
they  get  down  and  are  unable  to  resist  the  on- 
slaughts of  voracious  enemies.  On  such  occa- 
sions the  coyotes  approach  them  from  behind, 
and,  while  the  poor  animals  are  yet  alive,  they 
will  tear  out  their  entrails. 

A  prospector  by  the  name  of  Gus  Lederer, 
who  lives  at  Corn  Springs  in  the  Chuckawalla 
Mountains  of  California,  complains  bitterly  to 
me  about  the  way  the  coyotes  kill  all  his  cats. 
A  coyote  scalp  with  a  bunch  of  chicken  feath- 
ers and  a  piece  of  cat's  hide  were  here  nailed 
upon  a  palm  tree  as  a  proclamation  and  warn- 
ing of  what  may  happen  to  any  other  coyote 
that  may  become  too  familiar  about  his  place 
in  the  future. 

At  certain  seasons  of  the  year,  when  other 
food  is  scarce,  coyotes  eke  out  a  scanty  living 
by  feeding  on  dry  manzanita  berries,  gourds 
(hence  of  ten  called  coyote  melons),  dates  from 


150      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

the  Washingtonia  palms,  and  other  dried  fruits. 
Lean  bones  tell  the  tale  of  hunger  and  under- 
nourishment, but  no  one  cares.  That  is  what 
one  gets  for  being  a  coyote.  If  driven  to  it,  this 
ever-hungry  animal  vagabond  will  even  eat 
carrion  and  not  be  ashamed.  I  have  often 
wondered  if  he  rolls  on  the  carcass,  as  dogs  do, 
before  eating  it. 

The  coyote  possesses  a  special  fondness  for 
watermelons,  and  always  seems  to  delight  in 
plugging  the  ripest  and  best  ones  in  the  patch. 
He  is  never  satisfied  with  a  single  melon's  flavor, 
but  insists  on  taking  a  sample  bite  or  two  out 
of  every  good  melon  on  the  place.  Here  again 
he  lets  his  foolish  eating  habits  run  at  cross- 
purposes  with  the  desires  of  man  and  invokes 
retribution  upon  himself  in  the  form  of  poisoned 
fruits,  traps,  and  rifle  balls.  In  the  Colorado 
Desert  the  date-growers  tell  me  that  the  coy- 
otes are  so  fond  of  dates  that  they  climb  up  into 
the  young  trees  to  rob  the  fruit. 

Now  it  must  ever  be  remembered  that  the 
coyote  in  spite  of  his  sins  plays  a  valuable  part 
in  preserving  the  balance  in  nature.  Were  it 
not  for  his  keeping  the  rabbits  and  ground 


a 

V 

aft 


COYOTE-PROOF  HENHOUSE  MADE  BY  THE 

CAHUILLA  INDIANS  OF  CALIFORNIA 

THE  LADDER  IS  REMOVED  AT  NIGHT  AND  THE  CHICKENS 

ARE  SAFE 


DON  COYOTE  151 

squirrels  in  check,  the  country  would  long  ago 
have  been  overrun  with  these  troublesome 
rodents.  Few  of  the  ranchers  who  rail  at  the 
coyote  for  his  raids  on  their  chicken  coops  and 
vineyards  realize  what  value  he  is  to  them. 
The  few  hens  and  grapes  he  takes  are  small  pay 
for  the  number  of  destructive,  grain-eating 
rodents  he  annually  destroys.  Last  autumn, 
when  I  journeyed  one  very  early  morning 
through  a  little  mountain  village  where  the 
settlers  were  clearing  land  and  raising  their 
first  crops,  and  counted  the  jack  rabbits  in  some 
of  the  fields,  I  found  sixty- two,  in  one  instance, 
on  an  acre  plot  of  corn.  It  did  not  surprise 
me  that  there  was  little  worry  expressed  in 
the  neighborhood  over  the  toils  attending  the 
coming  harvest  season.  The  rabbits  had  taken 
everything.  These  same  settlers  had  carried 
on  for  some  time  a  consistent  and  continuous 
campaign  of  coyote  trapping  and  this  plague 
of  rabbits  was  the  result.  They  must  now  as- 
sume the  burden  of  controlling  the  rabbits  by 
themselves  at  cost  of  time,  labor,  and  money,  to 
say  nothing  of  the  loss  of  crops  in  the  mean- 
time. "  Civilized  man  has  [often]  proceeded 


152      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

so  far,"  writes  Lankester,1  "in  his  interference 
with  extra-human  nature,  has  produced  for 
himself  and  the  living  organisms  associated 
with  him  such  a  special  state  of  things  by  his 
rebellion  against  natural  selection  and  his 
defiance  of  Nature's  pre-human  dispositions, 
that  he  must  either  go  on  and  acquire  firmer 
control  of  the  conditions  or  perish  miserably 
by  the  vengeance  certain  to  fall  on  the  half- 
hearted meddler  in  great  affairs.  We  may, 
indeed,  compare  civilized  man  to  a  successful 
rebel  against  Nature,  who  by  every  step  for- 
ward renders  himself  liable  to  greater  and 
greater  penalties,  and  so  cannot  afford  to  pause 
or  fail  in  one  single  step." 

All  who  intimately  know  the  coyote  concede 
that  he  has  a  good  sense  of  humor  and  that 
there  lurks  behind  those  cold,  crafty,  green  eyes 
a  passion  for  trickery.  It  is  a  great  sport  of  his 
to  tantalize  and  play  jokes  on  the  ranch  dogs 
by  keeping  them  up  and  in  a  state  of  growling 
ill-humor  half  the  night,  robbing  them  and  the 
ranch  people  who  own  them  of  half  their  sleep. 
He  will  bark  beguilingly  for  hours,  using  his 
1  Kingdom  of  Man  (1911),  pp.  31-32. 


DON  COYOTE  153 

ventriloquistic  powers  to  lead  the  dogs  off  in 
the  wrong  direction,  while  his  mates,  who  aid 
him  on  the  hunt,  sally  into  the  sheep  corrals 
and  carry  off  the  fattest  of  the  flock.  Finding 
the  sheep  disappearing  at  the  hands  of  this 
murderous  rogue,  the  rancher  puts  out  his  traps, 
but  too  often  finds  the  cunning  shrewdness  of 
the  coyote  outwitting  his  best  efforts  to  catch 
him.  Unless  the  lure  of  bait  is  extraordinarily 
attractive  and  free  from  human  taint,  or  the 
traps  unusually  well  placed,  the  "  educated " 
freebooter  will  never  be  caught.  He  recognizes 
that  man  is  his  worst  and  most  insidious  enemy, 
and  he  looks  suspiciously  and  contemptuously 
upon  all  human  inventions  to  work  his  ruin. 
To  show  his  scorn  and  let  the  farmer  know  how 
near  he  has  been  to  the  cruel  trap  without 
being  caught,  he  often  defiles  the  trap  with  his 
excreta,  leaving  his  enemy  to  curse  the  wily 
and  elusive  creature  who  again  has  outwitted 
him  and  rendered  nugatory  all  his  best  efforts 
to  protect  his  sheep. 

The  female  coyote  is  a  conscientious  mother, 
and  it  is  a  profound  moment  in  her  life  when  the 
little  grayish-brown  puppies  are  born  into  the 


154      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

world  of  light.  The  old  roving  nature  now  gives 
way  to  the  maternal  instinct  to  stay  as  much  as 
possible  about  the  den  and  guard,  suckle,  and 
train  the  young.  The  number  of  puppies  in  a 
litter  is  about  five,  born  during  the  first  days  of 
April.  They  are  as  awkward  and  clumsy  as 
can  be,  with  big  heads  and  ears  out  of  all  pro- 
portion to  the  size  of  their  bodies.  I  occasion- 
ally meet  some  desert  man  who  entertains  the 
curious  idea  that  coyote  mothers  feed  their 
young  by  regurgitation ;  that  is,  by  first  eating 
and  half  digesting  the  food  themselves  and  then 
throwing  it  up  into  the  young  coyotes'  mouths. 
One  old  fellow  regarded  me  with  somewhat  of  a 
look  of  mingled  scorn  and  pity  when  I  showed 
hesitancy  in  believing  his  statement  to  that 
effect.  The  truth  is,  of  course,  that,  like  all  baby 
canines,  the  young  subsist  entirely  upon  the 
mother's  milk  until  they  cut  their  teeth.  But 
even  before  they  have  learned  to  eat  solid  food, 
you  may  see  them  almost  any  day  playing 
about  the  hole  making  pretense  of  chewing  on 
old  bones  or  playing  at  tearing  the  carcass  of 
some  animal  the  mother  has  brought  in  for 
their  delight  and  to  encourage  the  strengthen- 


DON  COYOTE  155 

ing  of  the  baby  jaws.  They  are  a  rollicking  lot 
and  are  quite  as  ready  to  chew  at  one  another's 
feet  and  ears  as  upon  other  objects.  They 
tumble  and  roll,  growl,  scramble  and  scrap  in 
sham  fight,  their  green,  close-set,  slanting  eyes 
expressing  the  happiness  they  enjoy.  Play  is 
now  the  fundamental,  uppermost,  and  dominat- 
ing business  of  their  lives.  The  instincts  of 
youth  urge  them  on  to  the  expenditure  of  their 
overflowing  energy  in  the  matching  of  strength, 
and  in  this  competitive  play  they  acquire  the 
elasticity  of  mind  and  muscle  so  essential  in 
after  life.  The  mortality  among  young  coyotes 
is  not  great;  for  their  natural  enemies,  with  the 
exception  of  man,  are  few.  In  a  remarkably 
short  time  after  birth  these  puppies  are  ready 
to  shift  for  themselves  and  meet  the  hard  strug- 
gle before  them. 

Coyote  puppies  early  learn  that  their  greatest 
safety  lies  in  flight  when  danger  confronts  them. 
Curiosity  seldom  leads  them  to  sit  still  or  stand 
and  look  when  they  are  approached.  Brand 
this  trait  with  the  ill-sounding  name  of  coward- 
ice if  you  will.  It  is  this  so-called  cowardice 
that  means  to  the  coyote  triumph  in  the  arena 


156     DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

of  efficiency  and  the  attainment  of  that  which 
is  dearest  to  the  heart  of  all  living  creatures  — 
the  continuance  of  life.  The  law  of  self-preser- 
vation is  written  deep  upon  the  mind.  Its  bio- 
logical significance  is  great.  What  animal  has 
been  able,  like  the  coyote,  to  baffle  hunters  and 
trappers  and  preserve  its  kind  under  conditions 
so  wretched?  Except  in  the  most  civilized  parts 
of  his  old  range  he  still  seems  almost  as  plenti- 
ful as  ever,  and  his  dismal  barking  serenades 
may  still  be  heard  at  night  in  the  foothills  and 
plains  as  of  old.  During  a  series  of  seasons  when 
high  prices  for  pelts  prevail,  he  is  much  reduced 
in  numbers  (during  one  winter  recently  when 
skins  brought  as  high  as  ten  and  twenty 
dollars  apiece,  over  four  hundred  skins  were 
taken  out  of  the  Searles  Lake  region  on  the 
Mohave  Desert  alone),  but  as  soon  as  prices 
drop  again  and  trapping  ceases,  the  loss  is 
quickly  replenished. 

The  most  serious  disease  to  which  coyotes  are 
subject  is  hydrophobia.  When  once  they  get  it, 
the  consequences  are  always  serious,  especially 
to  man.  In  their  mad  wanderings  over  wide  dis- 
tricts they  bite  skunks,  dogs,  cattle,  and  other 


DON  COYOTE  157 

animals,  and  these  in  turn  attack  and  commu- 
nicate the  disease  to  human  beings.  Serious 
outbreaks  of  rabies  are  thus  experienced  from 
time  to  time,  especially  in  the  more  remote  re- 
gions where  the  coyote  is  still  abundant.1  The 
little  spotted  skunk  generally  gets  the  blame. 

1  So  dangerous  was  the  widespread  outbreak  of  rabies  among 
coyotes  and  bobcats  in  Nevada  and  southwestern  Idaho  in  1916 
that  Congress  made  an  emergency  appropriation  of  $75,000 
to  help  combat  the  disease. 

"During  the  year  the  State  authorities  of  Nevada  treated 
more  than  sixty  persons  who  were  bitten  by  either  wild  or 
domesticated  animals.  So  great  was  the  dread  inspired  by  the 
presence  of  these  maddened  wild  animals  that  children  were 
accompanied  to  school  by  armed  guards.  Driven  by  their 
rabid  blindness,  coyotes  entered  the  yards  of  dwellings,  attack- 
ing dogs,  cats,  human  occupants,  or  any  object  they  might 
encounter;  they  entered  feed  lots  and  snapped  and  infected 
cattle,  sheep,  and  other  domesticated  animals;  and  also  at- 
tacked pedestrians,  horsemen,  and  automobiles  on  the  public 
highways.  The  destruction  of  live  stock  was  enormous.  In  a 
feed  lot  at  Winnemuca,  Nevada,  a  single  rabid  coyote  caused 
the  loss  of  twenty-seven  steers.  The  State  of  Nevada  promptly 
appropriated  $30,000  to  co6perate  with  the  United  States  Bio- 
logical Survey  in  waging  a  campaign  against  the  pests  in  that 
State.  . . . 

"The  movements  of  live  stock  between  their  summer  and 
winter  pasture  ranges,  with  accompanying  movements  of  dogs 
and  predatory  animals,  made  possible  an  extension  of  the 
disease  into  the  contiguous  territory  of  eastern  Oregon,  southern 
Idaho,  northern  California,  the  western  half  of  Utah,  and  even 
into  eastern  Washington.  Cattle  and  sheep  were  destroyed  in 
large  numbers  through  the  extension  of  the  disease,  and  at  least 
1500  persons  were  bitten  by  rabid  animals."  (Yearbook  of  the 
Department  of  Agriculture,  1920.) 


158      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

Dogs  and  coyotes  readily  interbreed,  with 
the  result  that  you  will  find  in  country  places, 
especially  among  the  Indians,  who  seemingly 
care  little  about  the  breeds  of  their  dogs,  mon- 
grels of  every  gradation.  The  domestic  dog  is 
naturally  jealous,  pugnacious,  and  brave,  but 
when  he  has  the  least  bit  of  coyote  blood  in  him 
he  is  almost  always  worthless  to  the  needs  of 
man.  He  is  then  shy  and  distrustful,  and  on  the 
least  occasion  sneaks  off  and  runs.  His  form  is 
lean  and  his  coat  lacks  the  luster,  smoothness, 
and  fineness  of  the  domestic  stock. 

The  ordinary  coyote's  color  is  a  brownish 
gray,  but  those  of  the  desert  regions  are  nearly 
always  of  a  lighter  color  in  harmony  with  their 
surroundings.  Once  in  a  while  an  albino  coyote 
is  found,  an  animal  whose  hair  is  pure  white. 
Lumholtz,  in  his  delightful  travel  book,  en- 
titled "New  Trails  in  Mexico,"  tells  of  several 
observed  along  the  shores  of  the  Laguna  Prieta 
and  at  Carborca.  I  have  never  heard  of  a  pure 
black  coyote,  melanism  evidently  not  being  as 
much  exhibited  among  them  as  among  foxes 
and  some  other  animals. 

Normal  coyotes  need  seldom  be  feared  by 


DON  COYOTE  159 

man.  Only  once  have  I  heard  of  them  attack- 
ing a  human  being.  One  of  the  ranchmen  at 
the  Whitewater  Ranch  on  the  Colorado  Desert 
was  irrigating  one  evening  and  was  approached 
by  a  small  pack  of  lean,  hungry-looking  coyotes. 
They  dogged  his  steps  and  menacingly  tried  to 
snap  at  him.  He  was  able  to  keep  them  off  and 
finally  to  drive  them  away  only  by  throwing 
water  from  the  ditch  upon  them  with  his  shovel. 
Though  coyotes  are  more  or  less  sociable 
animals  among  themselves,  there  are  seldom 
more  than  two  or  three  together,  though  their 
rollicking,  yelping  barks  would  lead  one  to 
think  two  dozen  were  coming  near.  Their  voices 
often  have  a  peculiar  human  sound  about  them, 
so  that  one  might  easily  imagine  their  cries  to 
be  those  coming  from  a  group  of  playful,  yelling 
youngsters.  I  well  remember  an  old  lady,  who 
had  spent  all  her  life  in  Chicago,  exclaiming 
when  she  first  heard  the  coyotes  barking, 
"Where  are  all  those  noisy  bad  boys?" 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  REPTILES 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  REPTILES 

I  VIVIDLY  remember  the  well-meaning  lady  who, 
after  listening  for  two  months  to  a  course  of 
lectures  on  Natural  History  at  one  of  our 
summer  resorts,  exclaimed,  by  way  of  showing 
her  interest  and  appreciation  of  the  lecturer: 
"How  I  would  like  to  go  out  an  hour  with  you 
some  time  and  see  all  these  things  you  have  told 
us  about!" 

All  in  an  hour!  As  if  the  world  of  out-of-doors 
was  a  great  cinema  film,  and  all  one  had  to  do 
was  to  take  a  walk  with  a  naturalist  and  see 
the  whole  interesting  performance  reeled  off  the 
screen  in  an  hour! 

Nature  is  in  no  hurry  to  make  show  of  her- 
self. She  works  slowly,  often  infinitely  slowly, 
and  the  poor  misguided  souls  who  are  of  that 
same  mind  as  Kipling's  monkeys,  who  wanted 
to  know  and  do  all  things  "  complete  in  a 
minute  or  two,"  must  ever  remain  disappointed 
with  Nature's  deliberation  and  seeming  pro- 
crastination. 


164      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

"Gold,"  said  an  old  prospector,  when  asked 
by  an  inquisitor  where  one  might  locate  it,  "is 
where  you  find  it;  that's  where  it  is."  -And 
so  one  must  say  of  the  interesting  phenomena 
and  incidents  of  Nature's  programme.  Some- 
times one  must  travel  for  hours  or  even  days 
before  seeing  anything  unusual.  Then  again 
there  will  come  days  which  seem  crowded  with 
spectacular  and  interesting  sights;  as  though 
Dame  Nature  had  turned  generous,  and  hur- 
ried the  events  of  the  weeks  into  a  single  day. 
But  whichever  way  the  tide  turns,  the  nature- 
lover  is  content,  knowing  that  what  does  not 
come  to  him  to-day  will  come  on  another.  If 
he  watches  long  enough,  he  will  always  see 
something  worth  his  while. 

On  the  evening  when  first  I  saw  the  mason 
bees  at  work,  I  said  to  myself  while  going  home: 
"This  is  plunder  sufficient  for  any  day."  You 
may  imagine  my  mingled  surprise  and  delight 
when  there  was  staged  before  my  eyes,  in  addi- 
tion, the  unusual  reptilian  battle  described  in 
this  sketch. 

The  sun  had  already  been  down  half  an  hour 
and  the  lingering  reflected  rays  of  daylight 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  REPTILES     165 

were  just  about  to  flee,  when,  in  the  dusky  light, 
I  saw  beside  my  path  a  ball  as  peculiar  as  ever 
eyes  had  seen.  There  on  the  ground  was  a 
brilliantly  colored  king  snake  wound  up  into  a 
ball  as  tight  and  as  intricately  turned  as  a 
Gilligan  hitch.  Protruding  between  the  coils  in 
all  sorts  of  most  awkward,  absurd,  and  out- 
landish positions  were  the  four  legs  of  a  large 
gridiron-tailed  lizard  (Callisaurus :  ventmlis). 
That  expression,  "  closed  in  mortal  combat/' 
could  never  be  used  more  appropriately  than 
to  describe  these  creatures  wrapped  together 
into  this  reptilian  knot.  The  snake  had  wound 
himself  about  the  saurian's  body  in  such 
fashion  that  it  seemed  as  though  every  bone 
in  that  lizard's  body  must  be  broken,  the  ver- 
tebrae pulled  apart,  and  the  function  of  every 
vital  organ  suppressed.  The  body  was  doubled 
backwards  so  that  the  rump  and  head  were 
touching.  So  intent  was  the  snake  in  his  efforts 
to  bind  in  tighter  the  already  over-squeezed 
lizard  that  he  seemed  not  to  notice  my  presence 
in  the  least,  or  even  be  disturbed  when  I 
turned  the  living  knot  over  with  a  stick. 
As  the  writhing  ball  was  turned,  I  noticed 


166      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

that  the  lizard,  who  looked  as  though  he  had 
been  dead  for  some  time,  had  his  jaws  closed 
upon  a  fold  of  the  snake's  skin  near  the  neck. 
"This,"  I  said,  "is  because  rigor  mortis  has  set 
in  and  the  jaws  which  had  snapped  in  self- 
defense  when  the  snake  attacked  are  now  set 
stiff  in  death.  It's  good  enough  for  you,  old 
snake.  For  once  the  biter  has  been  bitten." 

There  was  not  the  least  motion  in  the  lizard's 
limbs;  there  was  no  doubt  in  my  mind  but  that 
all  circulation  of  blood  had  long  ago  been  cut 
off  by  the  constrictions  of  the  snake's  lithe 
body.  As  though  attempting  to  begin  swallow- 
ing the  lizard,  the  snake  was  now  trying  this 
way  and  that  to  close  his  jaws  over  the  saurian's 
head,  but,  since  the  lizard  also  had  the  snake 
within  its  jaw-grip,  the  latter  could  get  no  hold 
of  any  kind. 

Inasmuch  as  the  darkness  of  night  was  com- 
ing on  so  rapidly  that  I  feared  I  would  not  be 
able  to  see  the  end  of  this  interesting  struggle, 
and  since  my  sympathies  were  decidedly  against 
the  reptile  who  had  so  hard-heartedly  caught 
this  poor  lizard,  I  decided  before  leaving  to 
untie  this  reptilian  Gordian  knot  and  deprive 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  REPTILES     167 

the  snake  of  his  cruelly  gotten  prey.  With  the 
aid  of  two  sticks  this  was  effected ;  but  not  with- 
out some  difficulty,  for  the  snake  had  given  the 
lizard  a  double  wrap  besides  tying  his  own  body 
into  a  classical  single  knot. 

You  may  imagine  what  was  presently  my  sur- 
prise when  I  saw  this  lizard,  now  unwound,  and 
whom  I  had  thought  long  ago  dead,  quick  as  a 
flash  spring  backwards,  and,  righting  himself, 
dash  at  the  snake  and  grasp  him  again  just 
behind  the  head. 

Talk  about  being  game;  here  was  no  coward 
of  any  stripe.  He  leaped  literally  from  the  coils 
of  death  back  into  the  struggle.  And  he  held 
onto  his  opponent  as  tenaciously  as  a  snapping 
turtle.  Though  the  snake  now  did  his  best  to 
get  away  —  he  doubtless  had  had  quite  enough 
of  it  —  the  lizard  held  on  with  his  iron  grip  and 
even  allowed  himself  to  be  dragged  along  by  his 
foe,  who  was  now  making  his  way  toward  a 
near-by  hole  beneath  the  surface.  Not  to  be 
daunted  when  even  this  narrow  opening  was 
entered,  he  permitted  the  snake  to  draw  him 
beneath  the  surface.  When  nothing  but  the 
zebra-striped  tail  was  protruding  above  the 


168      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

opening  of  the  burrow,  I  grasped  it  and  pulled 
the  lizard  off,  allowing  the  snake  to  go  free.  My 
opinions  were  now  changing,  and  I  began  to 
judge  that  the  lizard  might  have  been  quite  as 
much  the  aggressor  as  the  snake.  After  I  pulled 
the  lizard  away,  he  ran  off  a  little  to  one  side 
and,  tilting  his  head  upward,  looked  at  me 
saucily  and  reproachfully,  as  much  as  to  say, 
"Well,  what  business  do  you  have  around  here 
to  meddle  in  my  affairs,  anyway?" 

"Scat,"  I  said,  "you  ungrateful  beast!" 
And  he  scurried  off  into  the  brush  to  rest  and 
ease  up  as  best  he  could  his  much-stretched 
limbs. 

And  of  course  you  ask:  "What  happened  to 
the  snake?"  And  my  only  answer  can  be  that 
he  crawled  on  down  a  hole;  and  he  did  it  in  a 
hurry,  too. 

Since  this  occurred  I  have  often  speculated  as 
to  how  this  battle  between  the  reptiles  began. 
It  no  doubt  would  have  been  an  interesting 
thing  to  have  witnessed  the  struggle  from  be- 
ginning to  end ;  for  it  would  have  given  one  such 
a  realistic  picture  of  those  struggles  and  scenes 
of  carnage  which  in  ancient  geologic  times  were 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  REPTILES     169 

staged  between  the  huge  carnivorous  dinosaurs 
and  the  massive,  heavily  armored,  herbivorous, 
monitor-like  reptiles. 

If  you  ask  me  to  venture  a  guess  as  to  who 
would  have  been  the  victor  in  this  struggle,  I 
will  say,  the  snake,  for  he  had  every  advantage. 
It  is  common  knowledge  among  old  desert 
travelers  that  the  larger  snakes  quite  generally 
attack  and  eat  lizards,  especially  the  smaller 
ones;  also  that  the  larger  lizards  prey  upon  the 
more  diminutive  species,  and  that  snakes  eat 
snakes.  Mr.  Gilman  tells  me  that  recently  he 
witnessed  in  his  own  yard  at  Banning,  Cali- 
fornia, a  red  racer  devouring  a  black  rattle- 
snake. A  young  observer  from  Barstow  on  the 
Mohave  Desert  has  just  sent  me  this  interest- 
ing experience: 

"As  I  was  coming  out  of  our  well,  that  is, 
the  pit  in  which  the  pump  is,  I  came  face  to 
face  with  a  huge  gopher  snake  which  was  eating 
a  medium-sized  lizard.  The  reptile  was  about 
half  swallowed.  I  watched  them  for  some  time, 
but  as  neither  moved  and  I  was  in  a  hurry  I 
touched  the  snake  with  a  stick.  He  immediately 
opened  his  mouth  and  spewed  the  lizard  out. 


iyo      DENIZENS  OF. THE  DESERT 

The  lizard's  forelegs  were  folded  tightly  against 
his  sides  and  he  appeared  to  be  dead,  but  in  a 
few  minutes  he  opened  his  eyes,  tried  first  one 
leg,  then  another;  and  then  on  seeing  me  he  ran 
off  at  top  speed.  I  was  truly  surprised,  for  I  did 
not  think  that  anything  could  go  through  the 
experience  of  being  half  eaten  and  still  live, 
much  less  be  able  to  run  off  immediately  after- 
wards." 


THE  PHAINOPEPLA 


THE  PHAINOPEPLA 

{(Phainopepla  nitens) 

WHAT  memories  of  lovely  desert  spring'  days 
the  name  of  this  bird  awakens!  One  can  hardly 
recall  a  walk  then  taken  when  one  or  more  of 
these  stately  bird  sentinels  were  not  seen  grac- 
ing the  topmost  twigs  of  some  mesquite  tree. 
The  generic  Greek  name  phainopepla,  which 
means  "  shining  coat/'  was  certainly  well  chosen 
for  this  black-feathered  aristocrat.  To  give 
him  an  air  of  dignity  beyond  that  which  his 
elegant  form  of  body  furnished  him,  Nature 
adorned  his  head  with  a  magnificent  crest  and 
provided  that  the  eye  should  be  a  flaming  red. 
On  each  wing  of  the  male  bird  there  is  a  clear 
white  wing  patch,  and  when  he  flies  upward  the 
effect  of  the  contrast  of  color  is  most  wonderful. 
All  these  characters  give  this  bird  an  individual- 
ity which  is  very  marked  and  he  becomes  to  us 
one  of  the  easiest  of  birds  to  identify.  The 
female  phainopepla,  like  the  female  Brewer 
blackbird,  lacks  somewhat  the  beauty  of  her 


174      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

mate  in  that  her  coat  is  only  a  deep  brownish 
gray  color  and  the  wing  patch  is  but  a  dull  white. 

The  phainopeplas  are  characteristic  birds 
of  the  Lower  Sonoran  Life-Zone  of  all  our 
Southwestern  deserts.  Some  individuals,  it  is 
true,  occasionally  stray  outward  to  the  coast 
during  the  spring  to  nest  in  the  sycamores  and 
to  eat  the  scarlet  pepper  berries,  but  the  major- 
ity of  them  remain  the  year  round  in  the  mes- 
quite  thickets  and  juniper  mesas  of  the  deserts. 

So  close  is  the  relation,  on  the  Colorado 
Desert,  between  the  phainopeplas  and  the 
mesquite  tree  that  it  may  be  safely  stated  that 
the  distribution  of  this  bird  there  is  coextensive 
with  that  of  the  mesquites.  Where  there  are 
no  mesquites  you  will  find  no  phainopeplas. 
In  the  branches  of  these  trees  grow  the  great 
clumps  of  the  mistletoe  (Phoradendron  cali- 
fornica)  which  bears  those  beautiful  pink  and 
pearly  berries  of  which  the  phainopeplas  are  so 
fond.  During  parts  of  the  year  they  seem  to 
live  almost  exclusively  upon  them.  In  the  early 
spring  the  inconspicuous  blossoms  of  the  mistle- 
toe attract  myriads  of  insects  and  on  these  the 
birds  gorge  to  fatness. 


THE  PHAINOPEPLA  175 

It  is  the  most  natural  thing  that  the  phaino- 
peplas  would  choose  as  sites  for  their  nests 
these  trees  where  they  find  so  much  of  their 
food.  Generally  the  bird-home  is  built  on  a 
horizontal  branch  of  a  mesquite  tree  just  un- 
der the  mistletoe  clump,  where  it  will  be  well 
screened  from  the  eye  of  gazers  by  the  myriads 
of  down-hanging,  blossoming  stems.  The  rather 
small  nest  in  many  ways  resembles  that  of  the 
wood  pewee.  It  is  made  entirely  of  fine  mate- 
rials bound  together  with  pieces  of  spider  web 
and  is  lined  with  wool  from  tomentose  plants 
found  in  the  vicinity.  The  eggs  are  an  ashy- 
blue  color,  thickly  covered  with  bluish  and 
black  spots,  and  generally  number  two  to  the 
nest:  occasionally  there  are  three.  The  ques- 
tion here  arises:  Why  so  few  eggs?  Reasoning 
by  inference  it  may  be  said  that  it  is  probably 
because  the  phainopeplas  have  few  natural 
enemies.  Generally  Nature  provides  that  ani- 
mals with  many  natural  enemies  should  rear 
many  young.  Thus  the  quail  which  nests  on 
the  ground  lays  from  eight  to  fourteen  eggs  for 
each  setting.  The  almost  universally  hunted 
hares  are  very  prolific.  But  the  band-tailed 


176      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

pigeons,  which  build  their  nests  high  and  roost 
in  the  trees,  lay  but  one  egg. 

The  phainopeplas  which  remain  throughout 
the  year  on  the  desert  breed  much  earlier  than 
those  which  nest  nearer  the  coast.  In  such 
locations  as  Banning  and  Beaumont,  California, 
which  are  close  to  the  desert,  and  yet  high 
enough  to  have  a  later  season,  the  desert-reared 
young  are  often  found  sporting  among  the  trees 
when  the  adults  which  have  come  to  the  higher 
zones  to  nest  are  just  beginning  to  incubate 
their  eggs. 

The  male  phainopepla  is  a  very  helpful  mate, 
always  taking  a  very  conspicuous  part  in  con- 
structing the  nest  and  rearing  the  young;  in- 
deed, he  often  does  the  major  part  of  the  work, 
the  female  only  passively  showing  her  interest 
by  sitting  on  some  twig  close  by  and  looking 
on  approvingly.  Instances  are  recorded  in 
which  the  male,  having  lost  his  mate  through 
some  mishap,  took  entire  charge  of  the  nest- 
lings and  brought  them  up  until  they  were  able 
to  care  for  themselves. 

Sometimes  phainopeplas  consort  in  small 
flocks,  but  most  often  you  see  individuals 


THE  PHAINOPEPLA  177 

perched  solitarily  like  shrikes  on  the  tips  of 
high  mesquite  twigs  where  the  situation  offers  a 
good  lookout.  Like  the  shrikes,  too,  they  have  a 
way  of  occupying  such  positions  for  unusually 
long  periods.  There  they  sit  often  for  a  quar- 
ter of  an  hour  at  a  time  preening  their  feathers 
and  stretching  their  wings,  otherwise  remaining 
almost  motionless  and  in  silence  except  as  at 
frequent  intervals  they  repeat  their  mellow 
flutelike  whistle. 

This  call  note  is  a  simple  one,  but  not  without 
character;  for,  like  the  phcebe's  melancholy  and 
plaintive  note,  it  has  a  pleasing  and  soothing 
quality  which  admirably  harmonizes  with  the 
quiet  beauty  of  the  landscape.  During  the 
nesting  season  this  simple  note  is  supplemented 
by  a  subdued  but  rich  warble  that  has  many 
elements  of  real  music. 

My  many  observations  of  this  silky-plumaged 
bird  lead  me  to  believe  that  he  is  almost  as  good 
an  insect  catcher  as  the  phcebe.  True,  he  is  not 
so  diligent  a  worker,  but  when  he  sallies  forth 
from  his  perch  and  snaps  at  a  fly  he  seldom 
misses  it.  His  habit  of  often  returning  to  the 
twig  from  which  he  has  darted  reminds  one 


178      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

strongly  of  the  ways  of  the  flycatchers.  This 
similarity  of  habit  early  gave  the  phainopepla 
the  common  name  of  "  black-crested  flycatcher/' 
but  since  this  appellation  is  misleading,  its  use 
has  been  discouraged  by  ornithologists. 


LATRODECTUS,  THE  POISONOUS 


LATRODECTUS,  THE  POISONOUS 

(Latrodectus  mactans) 

OF  all  the  spiders  feared  by  man  to-day  few 
have  the  black  reputation  of  those  belonging 
to  the  genus  Latrodectus.  The  much-feared 
malmignatte  of  southern  Europe,  the  dreaded 
karakurte  of  southeastern  Russia,  the  kapito 
of  New  Zealand,  the  vancoho  of  Madagascar, 
and  our  own  American  black  widow  are  all 
spiders  of  this  genus.  The  American  Latrodec- 
tus is  quite  generally  known  on  sight  by  the 
Southwestern  Indians,  especially  the  older  ones; 
for  it  was  long  the  practice  among  these  peo- 
ple to  use  these  spiders,  crushed,  for  poisoning 
their  arrow-points;  but  I  am  convinced  that 
not  nine  out  of  ten  of  the  white  people  who 
need  to  fear  this  noxious  spider  would  know 
her  if  they  saw  her,  and  this  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  she  is  one  of  our  commonest  Southwestern 
spiders. 

Latrodectus  is  one  of  our  few  spiders  with  a 
purely  black  body.  So  black  is  it  that  often  it 


182      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

shines  like  blackest  satin  and  under  certain 
lights  even  has  a  greenish  cast.  The  red  spots 
so  much  talked  of  in  connection  with  this  spider, 
and  which  are  necessary  marks  for  her  identi- 
fication, are  found  on  the  underside  of  the]  abdo- 
men. These  are  not  always  red,  but  are]  quite 
as  often  only  buff  or  a  light  corn  color,  a  fact 
well  to  keep  in  mind.  They  are  in  the  shape  of 
two  triangles  set  apex  to  apex  and  resemble 
together  an  old-fashioned  hour-glass;  hence  the 
vernacular  name  for  the  species,  "  hour-glass 
spider.1'  Sometimes  on  the  back  of  the  spider 
there  is  a  broken  row  of  red  dots  running  down 
the  middle  of  the  back.  The  male  spider,  who  is 
also  black,  has,  besides  the  red  markings,  four 
pairs  of  red  stripes  running  down  the  sides  of 
the  abdomen.  The  female  Latrodectus  is  a 
comparatively  large  spider  with  an  abdomen 
often  fully  as  large  as  a  gooseberry  or  a  large 
shoe  button.  The  Widow's  husband  is  much 
smaller,  generally  only  about  one  fourth  as 
large  as  his  mate;  he  is  seldom  seen. 

In  accordance  with  her  rapacious  nature  this 
spider  exhibits  few  aesthetic  tastes  in  the  build- 
ing of  her  web.  It  is  an  unshapely  and  unbeauti- 


LACTRODECTUS,  THE  POISONOUS     183 

ful  piece  of  construction,  made  of  threads  ex- 
ceedingly coarse ;  in  fact  so  coarse  that  one  may 
detect  the  presence  of  the  black  widow  by  her 
web  alone.  No  set  pattern  is  used  in  its  mak- 
ing ;  a  few  silken  strands  which  she  has  run  criss- 
cross with  a  more  or  less  carelessly  made  funnel- 
shaped,  more  closely  woven  retreat,  built  in 
some  dark  corner,  is  all  there  is  to  the  crude 
structure. 

When  egg-laying  time  comes  a  small,  globu- 
lar, closely  woven,  rather  hard,  silken  sack  is 
made,  filled  with  tiny  eggs  and  suspended  by 
several  threads  to  the  main  web.  Owing  to  the 
collection  of  dust  it  is  often  a  dirty  white  color. 
The  eggs  soon  hatch  after  being  laid,  but  the 
young  do  not  necessarily  emerge  just  then. 
Sometimes  they  remain  within  the  egg  case 
many  days  and  moult  before  coming  out; 
further,  they  always  wait  for  a  sunny  day  to 
come  before  showing  themselves.  They  are  at 
first  a  light  yellowish  gray  color,  but  after  a 
number  of  moults  turn  black  like  the  parents. 
Unlike  the  young  lycosid  spiders,  who  cling  to 
the  mother  and  ride  about  for  some  time  on  her 
back  and  legs,  the  young  black  widows  show 


184      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

their  independence  as  soon  as  they  are  out  of 
the  egg  case.  Both  eggs  and  young  may  be 
found  in  the  Southwestern  States  at  almost  any 
time  of  the  year. 

The  poison  of  this  venomous  spider  is  secreted 
in  two  pouchlike  glands  covered;  with  spirally 
arranged  muscles.  These  glands  are  located  at 
the  extreme  front  end  of  the  head,  and  from 
them  run  tiny  ducts  to  the  pores  at  the  ends 
of  the  claws  of  the  mandibles.  The  pore  is  lo- 
cated not  at  the  point  of  the  claw,  where  it 
would  become  closed  or  plugged  by  the  flesh  of 
the  victim,  but  on  one  side,  allowing  the  venom 
to  run  freely  after  the  puncture  has  been  made 
by  the  sharp  end  of  the  mandible.  This  open- 
ing of  the  venom  duct  may  be  seen  with  the 
naked  eye  on  the  mandible  of  such  large  spi- 
ders as  the  black  tarantulas. 

When  a  human  being  is  bitten  there  is  little 
to  show  where  the  puncture  has  been  made  — 
no  little  red  spot  as  is  often  thought.  Since  the 
poison  is  one  of  the  most  virulent  known  to  medi- 
cal science,  the  symptoms  following  a  bite  are 
quite  serious,  especially  if  the  victim  is  a  small 
child  or  a  person  in  frail  health.  In  such  cases 


LACTRODECTUS,  THE  POISONOUS     185 

death  may  ensue.  In  most  cases,  however,  the 
patient  recovers  after  a  few  days  of  torture. 
According  to  temperament  and  other  condi- 
tions which  may  prevail,  different  persons  are 
affected  differently.  There  are  two  types  of 
symptoms  following  the  bite:  the  nervous  and 
the  muscular. 

Dr.  John  C.  King,  of  Banning,  California, 
who  has  treated  an  unusual  number  of  patients 
suffering  from  this  spider's  bite,  in  a  paper 
recently  read  before  his  medical  society,  speaks 
of  the  severity  of  the  nervous  symptoms  as  fol- 
lows: 

"The  pain  is  excruciating,  often  requiring 
morphia.  It  is  the  type  of  pain  we  meet  in 
severe  cases  of  neuritis  and  angina  pectoris. 
It  travels  from  the  part  bitten,  regardless  of 
situation,  toward  the  heart.  The  patients  often 
lose  self-control,  weep,  cry  out,  and  become 
difficult  to  manage.  The  nervous  symptoms,  as 
pain,  twitching,  insomnia,  and  nervous  pros- 
tration, sometimes  continue  for  weeks.  I  have 
treated  bites  inflicted  by  tarantulas  and  stings 
given  by  scorpions,  but  in  no  such  instance  has 
the  pain  compared  with  that  following  this 


i86      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

small  spider's  bite,  nor  have  the  nervous  symp- 
toms been  so  marked. 

"Personally  I  prefer  the  bite  of  a  rattler.1' 
In  some  cases  the  bite  of  Latrodectus  is  fol- 
lowed by  extreme  tightening  of  the  abdominal 
muscles,  few  of  the  nervous  symptoms  then 
being  present.  All  of  the  abdominal  muscles, 
especially  the  short  muscles  of  the  hips,  become 
exceedingly  rigid  and  the  pain  accompanying 
this  tonic  spasm  is  intense.  The  pain  subsides 
after  about  forty-eight  hours  and  no  after  effects 
are  noticed.  The  poison  never  seems  to  affect 
the  heart. 

Though  this  spider  is  much  feared  by  the 
Indians,  it  is  now  known  that,  at  least  to  some 
extent,  the  venom  was  formerly  used  by  them 
as  a  cure  for  acute  and  chronic  rheumatism  and 
a  number  of  other  ailments.  A  medicine  man 
at  Cahuilla,  Riverside  County,  California,  who 
used  this  remedy,  prepared  his  patient  for  the 
bite  by  a  fast  of  two  days  and  then  allowed  the 
spider  to  bite  the  sufferer  on  the  hand.  The 
patients  who  took  this  heroic  treatment  became 
very  sick,  but  were  said  to  be  free  afterwards 
from  their  old  ailment.  The  case  of  a  white 


LACTRODECTUS,  THE  POISONOUS     187 

settler  who  took  the  treatment  from  the  Ca- 
huillan  medicine  man,  and  was  cured,  came  to 
my  attention  just  recently. 

The  black  widow,  or  hour-glass  spider,  is 
widely  distributed  in  the  United  States,  being 
found,  according  to  Emerton,  "all  over  the 
United  States  as  far  north  as  New  Hampshire 
and  south  through  Florida,  the  West  Indies, 
and  Chili."  It  is  very  plentiful  in  Southern 
California.  In  spite  of  its  frequency,  few  peo- 
ple are  bitten.  The  spiders  seldom  bite  unless 
severely  provoked.  In  almost  every  case  of 
which  I  can  find  authentic  record,  the  persons 
bitten  were  those  living  in  country  districts 
and  the  bite  was  experienced  while  about  out- 
of-door  toilets  or  barns  where  these  spiders 
resort  to  spin  their  webs  across  openings  and  in 
dark  corners. 


THE  LE  CONTE  THRASHER 


THE  LE  CONTE  THRASHER 

(Toxostoma  lecontei) 

"!F  you  want  to  see  a  bird  that  can  run,  you 
must  watch  for  the  little  brownish  bird  that's 
got  a  long  sickle  bill,"  said  Charlie,  my  cowboy 
friend,  with  whom  I  had  been  talking  about 
the  fleet-footedness  of  the  comical  road-runner. 
"They's  a  bird  that  can  really  run.  They's 
the  greatest  dodgers  and  runners  and  hiders 
you  ever  did  see.  There 's  only  one  way  you  can 
ever  catch  one  that  I  ever  seen,  and  that  is,  by 
chasing  them  down  on  horseback.  But  it's 
risky  business  trying  to  get  one  that  way,  that's 
what  I  know.  Suppose  your  horse  tumbles  in  a 
badger  hole  when  you're  chasing  your  bird  at 
breakneck  speed  and  you  go  headlong  into  a 
bunch  of  that  awful  cholla,  then  what  would 
you  say?  It's  no  fun  then,  that's  sure.  I 
knowed  a  feller  once,  a  cowman,  over  on  the 
Whitewater,  who  had  just  that  thing  happen 
to  him.  He  saw  one  of  them  birds,  and  just 
for  fun,  he  said  he'd  show  us  boys  how  to  get 


192      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

him.  He  started  out  full  gallop  after  him  and 
chased  the  bird  from  one  bush  into  another. 
But  that  bird  was  such  a  good  runner  and  got 
under  the  bushes  so  quick  every  time,  that  he 
kept  that  cowman  guessin'  all  the  time  where 
he  was.  Of  course  no  bird  can  keep  on  runnin' 
and  dodgin'  forever,  and  soon  he  got  so  tired 
out  he  could  n't  hardly  go  no  further.  Just 
when  that  cowman  thought  he  had  his  bird, 
what  should  his  horse  do  but  step  into  a  badg- 
er's hole  while  going  full  gait,  and  throw  that 
old  man  right  into  a  cholla.  Oh,  but  he  was  a 
sight!  All  stuck  up  with  dozens  of  prickly 
cholla  joints,  and  it  hurt  so  bad  that  when  we 
came  up  to  help  pull  'em  out  he  just  yelled  and 
cried  like  a  little  boy.  From  head  to  foot  his 
clothes  were  pinned  to  his  skin.  That  feller 
don't  go  bird-huntin'  and  chasin'  no  more;  no, 
no  more.  He  says  that  birds  can  run  in  the 
bushes  forever  and  never  get  bothered  so  far  as 
he  is  concerned." 

After  hearing  this  interesting  recital  of  this 
bird's  running  abilities  from  Charlie,  I  was 
anxious  to  get  a  sight  of  one.  I  shall  never 
forget  that  day  when  I  first  saw  my  Le  Conte 


THE  LE  CONTE  THRASHER      193 

thrasher  tearing  like  a  fugitive  from  justice  at 
breakneck  speed  out  of  my  sight.  Almost 
quicker  than  my  eye  could  follow  him  he 
dashed  into  a  bush,  and  by  the  time  I  reached 
the  spot  where  I  thought  he  was  hidden  I  saw 
him  speeding  a  hundred  yards  away  to  get 
under  cover  of  another.  Like  the  road-runner 
he  preferred  running  to  flying  and  took  wing 
only  when  hard-pressed  by  his  pursuer.  Since 
his  color  was  so  near  that  of  the  gray  sands  and 
vegetation  of  his  range,  he  slipped  out  of  sight 
with  the  greatest  ease.  It  was  a  long  time  before 
I  saw  him  again.  Nowhere  is  the  Le  Conte 
thrasher  plentiful,  and  I  watched  carefully 
through  many  seasons  before  I  really  felt  I 
knew  this  wary  bird. 

His  shyness  is  of  an  exaggerated  type.  He 
tries  always  by  every  possible  means  to  avoid 
you  and  with  his  powers  of  running  and  dodg- 
ing he  generally  is  successful.  Collectors  tell  me 
that  he  is  one  of  the  most  difficult  of  all  birds 
to  shoot  and  that  the  only  way  for  the  gunner 
to  get  him  is  literally  to  shoot  while  on  the  run. 

Though  rather  rare  birds,  the  Le  Conte 
thrashers  are  always  about  in  greater  numbers 


194      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

than  you  are  aware  of.  About  the  only  way  to 
make  a  census  with  any  proximity  to  satisfac- 
tion is  to  count  the  nests  of  the  season.  I  have 
traveled  for  days  and  have  seen  but  one  or  two 
of  these  thrashers  about  when  I  well  knew  by 
signs  that  there  were  many  more  in  the  vicinity. 

They  generally  keep  pretty  well  to  the  brush- 
tangled  washes  where  some  protection  is  offered 
them  from  intruders.  If  there  is  a  field  of  cholla 
cactus  in  the  vicinity,  you  may  be  sure  that  they 
have  sought  it  out  as  the  most  suitable  place 
for  the  nest.  They  will  occasionally  build  in 
palo  verde  trees,  but  the  cactuses  are  always 
their  first  choice  as  building-sites. 

The  nests  are  generally  inconspicuously 
placed  in  the  center  of  the  thickly  spined, 
branching  tops  of  the  cactuses  and  consist  of 
rather  coarse  thorny  twigs.  They  are  easily 
distinguished  from  the  nests  of  the  cactus  wrens 
by  their  open  tops.  The  inside  is  generally  lined 
by  vegetable  wool  gathered  from  a  small  woolly 
plant,  known  as  filago. 

The  female,  like  most  of  the  thrashers  and 
like  the  wren-tit  of  the  foothills,  is  a  close  sitter, 
and  seldom  leaves  the  nest  until  the  intruder  is 


NEST  OF  THE  LE  CONTE  THRASHER 


THE  LE  CONTE  THRASHER      195 

right  upon  her.  And  then  when  she  goes  she 
leaves  as  silently  as  a  mouse  with  never  a  word 
of  protest  or  the  faintest  cry  to  show  any  sign 
of  alarm.  She  simply  slips  over  the  back  of  the 
nest  and  is  gone. 

Mr.  French  Gilman,  of  Banning,  California, 
because  of  his  long  residence  on  the  desert  and 
his  intelligent  interest  in  birds,  is,  perhaps, 
better  acquainted  with  the  habits  and  manner- 
isms of  the  Le  Conte  thrasher  than  are  most 
Western  birdmen.  With  his  permission  I  am 
here  appending  in  effect  his  words  concerning 
the  call  notes  and  singing  habits  in  general  of 
this  hermit  bird: 

"My  introduction  to  this  interesting  bird, 
Toxostoma  lecontei,  was  during  the  summer 
of  1882  when  with  his  whistling  note  he  con- 
firmed my  earlier  belief  in  ghosts.  In  a  mes- 
quite  and  creosote  bush  thicket  at  Whitewater 
Ranch  on  the  Colorado  Desert  was  buried  a 
Mexican  horsethief  who  had  died  with  his  boots 
on.  Near  this  thicket  I  frequently  wandered, 
though  it  was  said  to  be  haunted.  On  several 
occasions  a  whistle  sent  me  to  the  ranch  house 
to  see  what  was  wanted,  but  when  I  got  there  it 


196      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

was  always  to  find  that  no  one  had  whistled. 
This  puzzled  me  until  I  found  the  noise  came 
from  the  thicket,  and  of  course  it  must  be  the 
Mexican  ghost.  This  I  believed  until,  a  few 
days  later,  accident  revealed  to  me  the  real 
whistler,  a  Le  Conte  thrasher.  The  note  of  the 
thrasher  can  be  mistaken  for  that  of  no  other 
bird.  It  resembles  closely  the  whistle  a  man 
employs  in  calling  a  dog  —  short  with  rising 
inflection  at  the  end.  So  striking  is  the  resem- 
blance that  it  is  nearly  impossible  to  distinguish 
one  from  the  other.  The  calls  are  uttered  at 
intervals  of  about  a  minute,  when  the  bird  is  in 
the  mood,  and  are  easily  imitated.  If  the  imi- 
tation is  accurate,  the  bird  will  continue  answer- 
ing for  a  long  time,  but  care  must  be  taken  not 
to  repeat  the  whistle  too  rapidly  or  he  sees 
through  the  deception.  In  addition  to  the  call 
note  he  has  a  very  attractive  song  which  re- 
sembles that  of  an  uneducated  mocking-bird, 
though  fuller  and  richer  and  pitched  in  a  higher 
key. 

"The  only  drawback  to  the  song  is  its  infre- 
quency,  even  when  the  birds  are  most  abundant. 
You  may  be  in  their  midst  all  day  and  see  sev- 


THE  LE  CONTE  THRASHER      197 

eral  pairs,  but  if  one  song  rewards  you  it  may  be 
counted  as  a  red-letter  day.  At  least  this  has 
been  my  experience  of  nine  years  in  particular. 
For  some  time  I  doubted  the  statement  made 
by  some  writers  that  the  Le  Conte  thrasher  was 
a  fine  singer,  but  I  was  finally  shown  by  the  bird 
himself.  While  standing  one  evening  on  a  high- 
drifted  hill  of  white  sand  about  two  miles  west 
of  the  rim  of  the  ancient  Salton  Sea,  I  heard  the 
sweet  strains  of  a  new  bird  song  and  began  to 
look  for  the  singer.  I  expected  to  find  a  mock- 
ing-bird whose  individuality  had  been  devel- 
oped by  the  desert  solitudes  and  who  had 
learned  a  new  song.  On  an  adjoining  sand- 
hill, perched  on  the  exposed  tip  of  a  sand- 
buried  mesquite,  I  saw  the  singer  —  a  Le  Conte 
thrasher.  Perhaps  environment  enhanced  the 
music,  for  the  spot  was  a  most  lonesome,  for- 
saken one,  near  an  ancient  Indian  encampment 
and  burial-ground,  but  I  have  heard  no  sweeter 
bird  song  and  the  memory  still  lingers.  Since 
then  I  have  heard  the  song  a  few  times,  but  not 
of  tener  than  once  or  twice  a  year,  though  I  have 
frequently  been  among  the  birds.  Not  only  do 
they  seldom  sing,  but  the  whistling  call  note  is 


198      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

not  often  heard.  *  They '  appear  to  be  silent, 
unsociable  creatures,  never  more  than  a  pair 
being  found  together,  unless  a  brood  of  young 
birds  and  parents,  and  then  only  until  the 
former  can  shift  for  themselves.1' 


THE  GNATCATCHERS  AND  VERDINS 


THE  GNATCATCHERS  AND  VERDINS 

(Polioptila  plumbea  and  Auriparus  flaviceps) 

THE  plumbeous  (lead-colored)  gnatcatchers, 
though  not  the  smallest  of  the  desert  bird 
pygmies,  are  surely  its  noisiest  scolders.  Their 
raspish  song,  anything  but  musical,  is  uttered 
with  such  frequency  and  in  such  a  determined 
and  defiant  tone  that  it  always  sounds  as  if 
these  midget  birds  were  berating  and  throwing 
challenges  to  everybody  in  the  neighborhood. 

With  never  a  minute  for  idleness  they  go 
working  their  way  from  bush  to  bush,  turning 
this  way  and  that,  their  restless  tails  all  the 
time  wagging  in  unison  with  their  fidgety  bod- 
ies. They  hunt  in  pairs;  one,  generally  the 
male,  takes  the  lead  and  the  other  follows  close 
by.  As  they  move  rapidly  about,  scolding  and 
chattering  and  scanning  the  bushes  for  insect 
eggs,  small  caterpillars,  and  beetles,  they  re- 
mind us  of  those  talkative  and  active  moun- 
tain birds,  the  chickadees,  except  in  that  they 
are  not  quite  so  adept  as  the  chickadees  at 


202      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

turning  upside  down  on  the  branches.  Evi- 
dently they  always  have  a  great  deal  to  talk 
over  among  themselves  about  the  adventures 
of  the  day,  for  they  are  never  still  a  minute. 
I  have  known  them  to  utter  four  different  notes 
in  half  as  many  minutes,  each  with  its  peculiar 
variations  and  distinct  individuality  and  doubt- 
less the  expression  of  strong  emotional  states. 

This  afternoon,  while  walking  under  a  large 
palo  verde  tree,  I  found  a  gnatcatcher  cleaning 
mites  from  his  feathered  coat.  Judged  by  his 
motions,  he  had  plenty  of  them.  With  a  be- 
wildering rapidity  of  movement,  he  spread  his 
wings  outward  and  backward  and  brushed 
them  over  the  top  of  his  tail,  and  then  bill- 
scratched  his  breast  and  underparts.  Hardly 
had  he  begun  this  before  he  was  scratching  his 
neck  and  head  parts  with  his  feet.  This  billing 
and  scratching  and  brushing  were  kept  up 
fully  fifteen  minutes  with  scarcely  a  minute  for 
rest.  So  much  occupied  was  his  mind  with  his 
task  that  he  barely  noticed  my  presence  at  all. 

It  is  always  interesting  to  catch  birds  at 
such  odd  times  when  they  are  doing  little  things 
like  this,  for  one  then  gets  a  peep  into  a  side 


GNATCATCHERS  AND  VERDINS    203 

of  their  lives  which  helps  much  in  interpreting 
their  real]  nature.  This  little  fellow's  problem 
was  very  real  to  him,  as  was  shown  by  the  vigor 
with  which  he  attacked  its  solving.  A  sparrow 
having  the  same  difficulties  would  doubtless 
have  taken  care  of  them  in  quite  a  different 
manner. 

The  plumbeous  gnatcatchers  have  a  geo- 
graphical range  that  is  very  definitely  defined. 
They  are  found  more  or  less  all  the  year  through- 
out the  deserts  of  southeastern  California,  but 
particularly  in  the  Lower  Sonoran  Life-Zone  of 
the  Colorado  Desert  as  far  west  as  the  San 
Gorgonio  Pass  region,  where  they  are  displaced 
by  the  western  and  black-tailed  gnatcatchers. 
The  plumbeous  gnatcatchers  are  very  jealous 
of  the  territory  which  Nature  has  allotted  them, 
and  with  zeal  they  guard  it  against  all  en- 
croachments on  the  part  of  the  western  and 
black-tailed  species.  Occasionally  one  will  see 
a  pair  of  black-tails  on  plumbeous  territory,  but 
the  trespassers  are  few,  for  they  receive  rough 
handling  and  are  hustled  out  of  the  region  in  a 
hurry.  This  is  especially  true  at  nesting-time. 
Both  species  of  gnatcatchers  are  good  scrappers, 


204      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

and  it  is  always  an  exciting  time  when  they 
meet  at  the  cross-trails  and  settle  their  disputes 
in  beaky  arguments.  They  are  always  noisy 
birds,  but  at  such  times  a  pandemonium  of 
screechy,  quarrelsome  bird  notes  is  set  loose 
upon  the  air.  The  plumbeous  is  generally  the 
aggressor  and  he  drives  out  his  rival  at  any 
cost  of  feathers. 

This  pugnaciousness  of  the  plumbeous  gnat- 
catcher  is  manifest  toward  all  birds  when  the 
occasion  arises  to  protect  his  rights.  Woe  be  to 
the  bird,  even  though  he  be  a  large  one,  that 
shows  himself  too  familiar  and  aggressive  a 
visitor  in  the  mesquite  and  cat's-claw  bushes 
where  the  plumbeous  gnatcatchers  have  built 
their  nest. 

There  is  another  tiny  bird,  the  verdin,  which 
lives  in  the  same  region  and  which  is  of  the 
same  small  size,  nervous  temperament,  and 
restlessness  as  the  gnatcatcher.  There  are  good 
chances  that  the  novice  will  confuse  the  two 
birds  unless  some  attention  is  given  to  learning 
the  field  marks  which  distinguish  them.  Both 
are  birds  with  grayish  or  lead-colored  backs 
and  fluffy,  lighter  underparts.  The  male  ver- 


GNATCATCHERS  AND  VERDINS    205 

dins,  with  their  bright  olive-green  crowns  and 
yellow  heads,  need  never  be  mistaken  for  any 
dull-colored  gnatcatcher;  but  the  female  verdin 
is  not  so  easily  distinguished.  The  yellow  and 
green  of  her  coat  is  restricted  to  two  small 
patches,  one  on  the  head  and  one  on  the  neck 
just  beneath  the  bill,  and  the  colors  are  almost 
always  of  so  dull  a  hue  as  to  be  hardly  seen 
when  the  bird  is  in  motion. 

A  good  time  to  become  familiar  with  the 
verdins  is  during  the  breeding-season;  for  you 
will  then  learn  to  associate  them  with  the  large 
retort-shaped  nests  which  they  place  in  the 
wild  lavender,  mesquite,  and  other  thorny 
bushes,  and  you  will  see  both  male  and  female 
together,  making  it  possible  to  compare  their 
markings.  Without  making  any  protest  or 
appearing  much  disturbed,  the  birds  will  let 
you  sit  for  hours  under  the  nest  while  they 
come  and  go  about  their  business. 

The  nests  are  always  easy  to  locate,  for  they 
are  large  and  conspicuous.  Those  that  I  have 
found  on  the  Colorado  Desert  were  almost 
always  located  in  the  upper  crotches  of  the 
desert  lavender  bushes  which  grow  so  plenti- 


206      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

fully  along  the  gravelly  washes  and  in  the 
canon  bottoms.  On  the  Mohave  Desert,  where 
the  Hyptis  (the  correct  name  for  the  so-called 
wild  lavender)  does  not  grow  so  plentifully, 
the  nests  are  placed  in  the  mesquite  and  cat's- 
claw  bushes.  There  are  generally  two  nests 
built  very  close  together  or  in  the  same  bush. 
This  pairing  of  nests  is  easy  to  account  for 
when  we  learn  that  the  verdins,  like  the  canon 
wrens,  build  roosting-  as  well  as  breeding-nests. 
The  larger  nest  is  the  one  built  and  occupied 
by  the  female  for  nesting-purposes,  while  the 
smaller  is  built  by  the  male  and  is  for  his  sole 
use  as  sleeping-quarters.  After  the  young  have 
been  reared,  the  female  uses  her  nest  for  the 
same  purpose.  If  you  have  any  doubt  concern- 
ing the  occupancy  of  the  nests  at  night,  just 
gently  thrust  your  finger  into  the  hole  at  the 
end  of  the  bird-home  some  evening  or  early 
morning,  and  feel  what  a  peck  you  will  get 
from  the  tiny  bird  tenant  inside. 

The  verdins1  appreciation  of  economy  has 
induced  them  whenever  possible  to  utilize  the 
material  of  old  nests  in  the  reconstruction  of 
new  ones.  Last  winter  I  took  down  an  unoccu- 


GNATCATCHERS  AND  VERDINS    207 

pied  nest  of  the  season  and  placed  it  up  under 
the  eaves  of  my  house  where  it  served  as  a 
decorative  feature.  When  spring  came  the 
verdins  (evidently  the  same  pair  that  had  built 
it  in  the  spring  of  the  year  before)  spied  it  out 
and  proceeded  without  my  permission  to  tear 
it  to  pieces  bit  by  bit  and  make  it  into  a  new 
home  for  themselves.  As  though  it  were  a  kind 
of  protest  against  my  ever  having  removed  it 
from  its  old  place  in  the  lavender  bush,  they 
took  every  twig  of  it  back  there  and  made  the 
nest  in  the  same  branch  from  which  I  had 
taken  it.  When  this  nest  was  done,  it  was 
almost  as  big  as  my  head.  So  many  feathers 
and  leaves  were  put  inside  for  lining  that  one 
would  have  thought  there  would  have  been  no 
room  for  anything  else;  indeed,  so  many  feath- 
ers were  protruding  from  the  small  opening  at 
the  end  that  the  fat  nest  looked  as  if  it  were 
going  to  burst.  If  any  baby  birds  that  after- 
wards occupied  it  were  not  comfortable,  it  was 
because  they  had  crowded  quarters  and  not 
because  their  bed  was  not  soft  enough. 

When   I   came    back  to  the  desert  in  the 
autumn  I  found  these  same  birds  still  holding 


208      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

possession  of  this  nest  and  the  roosting-nest 
built  beside  it  soon  after.  They  were  then 
getting  ready  for  winter  and  were  thoroughly 
renovating  and  relining  their  old  domiciles  of 
spring.  Frequent  trips  were  made  to  a  gully 
several  hundred  yards  away,  and  there  from 
some  source  —  I  venture  to  say  from  some  old 
nest  —  great  numbers  of  feathers  and  sticks 
were  secured.  By  utilizing  old  material  the 
birds  were  able  to  save  themselves  much  labor 
and  were  able  to  reconstruct  the  nests  in  a 
remarkably  short  time.  As  far  as  I  could  see, 
the  remade  nests  looked  as  good  as  the  new 
ones  made  from  fresh  materials  in  the  spring 
season. 

Generally  but  one  bird  was  about  working  at 
a  time.  When  bringing  in  material  the  female 
verdin  always  hesitatingly  paused  a  moment 
underneath  a  twig  just  beneath  the  nest  before 
going  inside.  Having  gone  in  and  fixed  in  its 
proper  place  the  stick  or  feather  she  had  se- 
cured, she  flew  to  a  twig  which  was  near  by  and 
spent  a  second  or  two  boasting  of  her  accom- 
plishment in  chippering  song. 


THE  DESERT  LYNX 


THE  DESERT  LYNX 
(Lynx  eremicus) 

WILD  CATS  or  desert  lynxes  are  plentifully 
found  over  almost  the  whole  desert  region  of 
the  Southwest.  They  are  especially  abundant 
along  the  western  borders  of  the  desert,  where 
the  brushy  foothills  of  the  high  mountain  ranges 
afford  them  abundant  shelter  and  a  good  supply 
of  food.  They  are  such  shy  and  secretive  ani- 
mals that  were  it  not  for  their  occasional 
depredations  upon  the  fowl  yards  of  settlers, 
and  their  getting  into  traps  set  for  them  by 
trappers,  we  should  scarcely  ever  know  they 
were  about.  They  are  out  very  little  in  the  day- 
time, preferring  to  do  their  hunting  during  the 
early  evening  and  night  hours.  I  was,  some 
months  ago,  camping  near  a  water-hole  on  the 
Colorado  Desert,  and  every  evening  at  dusk  I 
observed  a  mother  lynx  coming  down  onto  the 
little  grass  plot  near  the  spring.  As  long  as  I 
was  perfectly  quiet,  she  would  sit  still  and  watch 
me,  but  the  moment  I  made  a  sudden  move  she 


212      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

was  off  into  the  arrowweed  in  an  instant.  By 
following  her  trails,  I  was  led  into  a  rocky  gorge 
near  by  where  I  found  her  den,  and  in  it  were 
three  kittens  about  one  third  grown.  I  must 
confess  that,  when  I  first  approached,  it  was 
with  much  hesitancy,  for  a  wild  cat  is  not  a 
pleasant  animal  to  meet  in  combat.  And  here 
was  a  mother  with  young !  To  my  surprise  she 
became  frightened  and  abandoned  the  den 
almost  as  soon  as  she  saw  me,  and  I  was  left 
to  see  the  kittens  alone.  They  were  pretty 
little  things,  really  much  more  like  domestic 
kittens  than  I  had  imagined.  There  was  a 
stockiness  of  build,  a  bigness  of  head,  and 
enormity  of  padded  paws,  however,  that  no 
tame  kitten  ever  possessed.  Furthermore,  there 
was  no  long  tail  —  only  a  stump;  the  jowl 
whiskers,  if  such  you  may  call  the  heavy  long 
hair- tufts  beneath  the  jaw,  were  well  devel- 
oped, and  the  ears  were  tufted  by  fine  pencils 
of  black  hair.  As  I  approached  the  kittens  they 
gave  a  coarse  "mew,"  but  very  soon  showed 
their  distrust  by  spitting  at  me.  They  were 
going  to  take  no  chance  with  this  new  creature 
who  had  looked  down  upon  them  in  their  home, 


THE  DESERT  LYNX  213 

and  they  leaped  from  the  nest  and  past  me 
into  the  open  with  a  quickness  that  startled  me. 
There  was  probably  a  family  reunion  some- 
where out  in  the  brush  that  night,  but  I  never 
had  a  chance  to  know  of  it,  for  the  mother 
never  led  her  kittens  back  to  the  old  den  again. 
One  such  intrusion  was  enough  for  her. 

The  young  begin  eating  meat  without  evil 
consequences  very  early,  probably  within  a  few 
weeks  after  birth.  Small  animals  and  birds 
are  brought  in,  torn  to  pieces  by  the  mother, 
and  fed  to  them.  Growth  under  these  circum- 
stances is  very  rapid,  and  it  is  not  long  before 
the  young  cats  are  able  to  hunt  for  themselves. 
Like  the  domestic  kittens  they  are  very  play- 
ful and  when  taken  soon  after  birth  manifest 
a  great  affection  for  their  captor  if  he  is  at  all 
kind  to  them.  They  will  not  tolerate  strangers, 
however,  and  will  spit  and  jump  about  fero- 
ciously in  the  cage  and  show  the  greatest  of 
uneasiness. 

Wild  cats  manifest  the  greatest  antipathy 
to  their  domestic  cousins;  also  toward  dogs. 
A  man  whom  I  met  at  the  head  of  Coyote 
Canon,  in  Riverside  County,  California,  found 


214      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

it  necessary  to  keep  the  closest  watch  on  his 
tame  cat,  especially  at  night.  To  ensure  her  a 
safe  retreat  he  had  a  hole  cut  in  the  door  of  his 
house  just  large  enough  for  her  to  pass  through, 
but  too  small  for  the  lynxes.  The  dog  when 
annoyed  sought  shelter  up  in  the  attic  of  the 
small  shanty,  a  crude  stairway  leading  up  to 
the  door  outside  affording  him  a  means  of 
getting  up.  This  man  had  lost  several  cats  in 
the  past  and  his  small  dog  had  had  enough 
scratches  to  make  him  scramble  upstairs  to 
the  attic  upon  the  first  good  hiss  from  a  wild  cat. 
At  Indian  Springs  Ranch,  in  Southwestern 
Nevada,  a  desert  lynx  had  a  few  days  before  my 
arrival  played  havoc  with  a  whole  flock  of 
domestic  fowls,  killing  in  all  some  twenty 
blooded  chickens  —  and  this  in  one  night.  The 
animal  had  been  crawling  over  the  roof  of  the 
rather  poorly  constructed  coop  and  unluckily 
fell  through  the  rotted  shingles  plump  into  the 
midst  of  the  whole  pen  of  roosting  fowls. 
Frightened,  no  doubt,  and  angry  because  he 
could  not  find  his  way  out,  he  killed  every 
hen  within  reach.  The  proprietor  of  the  ranch 
found  him  still  imprisoned  next  morning,  and  a 


THE  DESERT  LYNX  215 

wild-cat  hide  now  lies  stretched  on  the  floor  of 

the  house. 

r_  -. 

Lynxes  live  largely  on  birds  and  such  small 
mammals  as  they  can  overpower.  These  they 
catch  by  approaching  them  stealthily  and  then 
at  the  opportune  moment  leaping  upon  them. 
Fowls  are  taken  occasionally,  but  no  one  need 
lose  chickens  if  he  will  see  to  it  that  the  pens 
are  tight  and  strongly  made. 


THE  DESERT  WHITE-CROWNED 
SPARROW 


THE  DESERT  WHITE-CROWNED 
SPARROW 

(Zonotrichia  leucophrys  intermedia) 

OCTOBER  15.  Now  that  the  desert  white-crowns 
have  returned,  and  we  hear  their  earnest  and 
cheerful  songs  from  almost  every  weed  and 
brush  tangle,  we  know  that  autumn  days  have 
come  for  good.  With  the  arrival  of  the  warm 
spring  days  they  left  us,  and  all  summer  they 
have  been  foraging  in  far  Northern  meadows 
and  busying  themselves  with  the  important 
work  of  rearing  families.  Since  these  nursery 
duties  are  over,  they  are  glad  to  be  back  again 
to  the  warm  desert  lowlands,  even  though  for  a 
little  while  they  must  be  content  with  the 
scant  fare  that  is  left  for  them.  Scarcely  any- 
thing has  been  growing  all  summer  and  the 
small  crop  of  seeds  which  ripened  in  early 
spring  has  largely  been  buried  by  the  winds  or 
picked  up  by  the  resident  birds  before  the  flocks 
of  white-crowns  and  chipping  sparrows  arrived. 
The  desert  sparrows  seem  to  know  that  if 


220      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

they  are  going  to  get  anything  to  eat  they 
must  earn  it  by  their  own  diligent  efforts.  In 
little  groups  they  sally  from  one  weed  patch  to 
another,  and  industriously  scratch  for  every 
mite  of  food  that  is  left.  They  seem  to  spend  a 
good  deal  less  time  than  most  of  the  birds  in 
aimless  flights  or  in  sitting  around  in  the  sun- 
shine doing  nothing.  Like  the  European  peas- 
ants they  sing  as  they  work  and  pass  the  days 
merrily  even  though  they  must  be  filled  with 
arduous  labors. 

The  music  of  these  gleeful  birds  is  the  cheeri- 
est and  most  constant  song  of  winter  and  lends 
brightness  to  many  a  dull  and  monotonous  day. 
They  are  particularly  songful  in  the  evening  at 
about  the  time  when  they  are  going  to  roost. 

Unhappily  there  is  little  of  particular  interest 
to  write  about  these  birds  for,  while  they  are 
well  worth  knowing  and  always  are  about  in 
greatest  numbers,  they  belong  to  those  general- 
ized types  of  birds  with  few  mannerisms  that 
are  noticeably  unusual.  Perhaps  we  may  say 
of  them,  as  Lincoln  said  of  the  common  people: 
the  Lord  must  love  them  because  he  made  so 
many  of  them. 


THE  BLACK-TAILED  HARE 


THE  BLACK-TAILED  HARE 
(Lepus  calif ornicus  deserticola) 

AMONG  the  smaller  animal  folk  of  the  arid 
Southwest,  the  black- tailed  hare  or  desert  jack 
rabbit,  is  the  paragon  of  racers.  His  only  rival 
is  the  desert  sand-lapper,  that  swift-footed 
lizard  that  seems  to  run  over  ground  as  birds 
fly  through  air.  The  coyote  often  attempts  to 
outrun  the  hare  and  sometimes  overtakes  him, 
but  more  often  this  green-eyed  rogue  catches 
his  "jack"  through  strategy  rather  than  by 
mere  swiftness  of  foot.  The  coyote  is  wise  and 
sagacious  enough  to  know  that  if  two  of  his  kind 
will  cooperate  in  the  hunt  they  can  take  ad- 
vantage of  the  rabbit's  tacking  habits  and  get 
him  without  long  chases.  The  first  one  chases 
up  the  hare,  and  the  second  places  himself  in 
such  a  position  that  when  the  rabbit  changes 
his  course  he  runs  square  into  the  jaws  of  the 
waiting  coyote. 

Yesterday,  while  out  with  the  donkeys  to 
visit  an  old  Indian  cave,  I  was  suddenly  startled 


224      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

by  a  jack  rabbit  who  ran  across  the  trail.  His 
eyes  were  wild  with  terror.  Hardly  had  he 
passed  when  hot  upon  his  heels  came  a  murder- 
bent  coyote  with  greedy  jaws  gaping  wide 
ready  to  grasp  his  victim.  So  close  was  he  on 
the  chase  that  the  two  or  three  forward  steps 
which  I  took,  between  the  time  I  saw  the  rabbit 
and  noticed  the  coyote,  placed  me  between  the 
two,  and  the  coyote  found  it  difficult  to  stop 
short  enough  to  prevent  himself  from  dash- 
ing right  into  me.  As  it  was,  he  stumbled  and 
almost  threw  himself  over  backwards  in  the 
efforts  to  slacken  his  pace.  As  soon  as  he  re- 
covered himself,  he  sneakingly  ran  off  to  one 
side,  sat  down  on  his  tail,  and,  with  his  tongue 
hanging  from  between  his  panting  jaws,  divided 
his  attention  between  me  and  the  escaping 
rabbit,  looking  first  reproachfully  and  scorn- 
fully at  me  and  then  curiously,  longingly,  and 
with  comical  regret  at  his  departing  dinner. 
He  was,  no  doubt,  wondering,  like  men  who 
have  suddenly  lost  long-sought  fortunes,  how 
it  had  all  happened  so  quickly.  The  rabbit  was 
fully  aware  of  his  new  chance  for  life  and  made 
away  as  fast  as  his  strong,  lanky  limbs  would 


THE  BLACK-TAILED  HARE      225 

carry  him.  Had  I  not  been  there  and  inter- 
cepted the  coyote,  another  instant  would  have 
witnessed  the  poor  rabbit  being  torn  to  shreds 
by  those  cruel  canine  teeth. 

I  have  often  wondered  how  it  would  seem  to 
be  thus  called  upon  to  flee  for  one's  life  at  a 
moment's  notice  with  the  unhappy  and  horrible 
prospect  of  being  eaten  alive  if  one's  prowess  as 
a  runner  was  not  equal  to  the  exigency.  There 
is  no  doubt  but  that  not  only  rabbits  but  nearly 
all  smaller  mammals  are  almost  daily  called 
upon  to  meet  just  such  issues.  How  hard  their 
lot  must  be  in  comparison  with  that  of  the 
super-mammal,  man,  who  through  his  wisdom 
and  invention  has  found  almost  complete  free- 
dom from  such  dangers!  Rabbits  seem  to  have 
about  the  hardest  lot  of  all  the  small  mammals 
that  roam  the  fields;  for  the  number  of  their 
natural  enemies  is  almost  legion.  Owls,  hawks, 
snakes,  coyotes,  wild  cats,  golden  eagles,  and 
man,  all  crave  their  tender  flesh  and  thirst  for 
their  sweet,  warm  blood ;  and  were  it  not  for  the 
extraordinary  fecundity  of  these  rodents  they 
would  long  ago  have  become  extinct.  Nature, 
solicitous  for  the  rabbits'  preservation,  or  else 


226      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

desirous  that  her  other  wild  children  should 
have  plenty  of  sport  and  good  food,  has  decreed 
that  there  should  always  be  many  young  to  re- 
place the  old  ones  who  have  fallen  prey  to  the 
gunners,  rapacious  birds  and  beasts. 

This  long-eared  rodent  of  our  sketch  is  ex- 
ceptionally easy  to  distinguish  from  other  rab- 
bits of  his  range  by  the  black  tail  which  he 
carries  compressed  against  his  rump.  His  light 
weight,  thin  body,  and  exceptionally  long  legs 
are  characters  which  separate  him  from  the 
short-bodied  bunnies  or  cottontails. 

When  he  is  hopping  about  feeding  or  travel- 
ing at  ordinary  speeds,  the  long  membraneous 
ears  are  carried  erect,  but  when  the  hare  is 
traveling  at  high  speed  the  air  pressure  induced 
forces  them  to  lie  back.  The  black-tailed  rabbit 
evidently  realizes  what  conspicuous  appendages 
his  jet-tipped  ears  are,  and  when  trying  to  con- 
ceal himself  in  the  open  he  crouches  low  on  the 
sand  and  lays  the  ears  well  back.  As  soon  as  he 
thinks  it  safe  he  gets  into  the  brush,  rises  up 
on  his  haunches,  and  without  fear  of  detection 
erects  his  ears  and  tests  every  wave  of  sound 
that  comes  his  way. 


THE  BLACK-TAILED  HARE       227 

These  rabbits  are  out  foraging  both  during 
the  day  and  at  night,  but  they  are  the  more 
active  in  the  dark.  Much  of  the  time  during  the 
day  they  remain  hidden  in  pocket-like  shelters 
made  in  the  brush.  These  "  forms,"  as  they  are 
called,  are  about  the  rabbits'  only  protection 
against  bad  weather,  and  were  it  not  for  their 
heavy,  furry  winter  coats  they  would  spend 
many  days  in  discomfort.  The  cottontails  are 
wise  enough  to  seek  shelter  in  holes. 

When  the  rabbits  go  foraging,  they  are  not 
fastidious  eaters.  The  bitter-barked  creosote 
bush  and  the  Bigelow's  cactus  are  among  the 
few  plants  of  the  desert  immune  from  their 
attack.  Practically  all  other  trees,  shrubs,  and 
herbs  are  subject  to  their  nibbles.  Even  the 
greater  number  of  cactuses  with  their  sharp 
spines  are  robbed  of  their  juicy  outer  parts. 
Barrel  cactuses,  those  spine-protected  natural 
reservoirs  of  the  desert,  are  especially  sought 
out.  How  the  tender  rabbit  noses  are  able  with 
impunity  to  be  thrust  in  between  the  rigid, 
thick-set  spines  is  a  mystery  that  is  still  to  be 
explained.  I  have  often  found  on  the  dry,  rocky 
mesas,  great  numbers  of  the  bisnagas,  or  barrel 


228      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT, 

cactuses,  completely  girdled,  'the  pulp-meat 
having  been  gouged  out  an  inch  of  more  deep 
all  around.  Around  the  base  of  each  was  a  ring 
of  excreta,  leaving  no  doubt  as  to  who  the 
nibblers  were.  The  desert  rabbits  seldom  drink, 
but  depend  almost  wholly  for  water  on  such 
foods.  During  the  summer  months  their  body 
excretions  are  reduced  to  the  lowest  minimum, 
and  even  though  they  can  get  to  succulent  food 
supplies  only  occasionally,  they  suffer  little  from 
thirst.  A  rabbit  never  perspires  in  the  ordinary 
sense  of  the  term  in  so  far  as  I  can  learn.  The 
sweat  glands  which  function  actively  are  very 
few  and  are  probably  confined  to  small  areas  of 
the  skin. 

The  young  come  in  April  or  May  —  born 
with  eyes  wide  open  and  with  bodies  well 
clothed  with  hair.  No  days  of  helplessness  are 
waiting  for  them.  They  stand  ready  to  be  off 
almost  as  soon  as  they  see  the  world.  Within  a 
few  weeks  after  birth  these  little  fellows  are 
showing  much  independence,  getting  around  at 
a  lively  clip  and  indiscreetly  giving  hostages  to 
fortune  by  exposing  themselves  to  every  enemy 
that  may  lie  in  wait  for  them. 


THE  BLACK-TAILED  HARE      229 

At  times  rabbits  become  so  plentiful  that 
they  are  seen  almost  everywhere  in  the  open 
country,  and  then  after  this  there  may  come 
years  when  they  seem  to  have  in  large  part  dis- 
appeared. Many  old  prospectors  and  ranchmen 
will  tell  you  that  this  is  because  food  is  scarce 
and  that  the  rabbits  have  gone  to  better  feed- 
ing-grounds. This  is  an  error.  While  food  de- 
ficiency may  have  something  to  do  with  the 
ability  of  great  numbers  of  rabbits  to  subsist  in 
any  region,  yet  their  scarcity  at  certain  periods 
cannot  be  accounted  for  wholly  on  this  basis. 
These  rodents  are  subject  to  several  contagious 
maladies  which  at  times  so  reduce  their  num- 
bers that  it  would  seem  there  were  scarcely 
enough  healthy  ones  left  to  replenish  their  kind. 
But  those  that  survive  manage  to  repopulate 
the  fields  in  a  remarkably  short  time,  and  the 
ranchers  are  all  too  soon  complaining  about 
"too  many  jack  rabbits "  again. 

The  water  blisters  often  found  on  hares  are 
due  to  the  presence  of  the  larval  form  of  a 
tapeworm.  The  late  Dr.  Katherine  Brandegee 
worked  out  the  life-history  of  this  parasite,  and 
I  give  her  words  concerning  it: 


230      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

"Swellings  known  to  hunters  as  'water  boils' 
are  found  in  a  very  considerable  proportion  of 
hares.  So  far  as  I  have  observed,  they  do  not 
occur  in  the  smaller  species,  the  brush  rabbit 
and  the  cottontail,  of  which  I  have  examined 
several  hundred  specimens. .'. . 

"  Tapeworms  are  exceedingly  common,  most 
animals  harboring  one  or  more,  either  in  the 
perfect  or  larval  state,  but  they  are  rare  in  the 
reptiles.  Their  life-history  is  tolerably  well 
known;  those  which  belong  properly  to  the 
carnivora  pass  their  larval  stage  in  the  flesh  of 
some  herbivorous  animal  which  is  the  natural 
prey  to  its  future  host. 

"The  natural  hosts  of  the  c&nurus  [tape- 
worm] of  the  hare  are  probably  the  dog  and  the 
wolf.  A  hare  badly  infested  with  c&nurus  be- 
comes swollen  and  deformed,  and  as  the  loins 
and  thighs  are  attacked  by  preference  his 
powers  of  locomotion  are  seriously  impaired. 
In  this  condition  he  falls  an  easy  prey  to  his 
hereditary  foe,  the  coyote. 

"The  coyote  swallows  not  only  the  hare,  but 
its  ten  thousand  contained  larvae,  a  circumstance 
which  would  undoubtedly  give  his  victim  a 


THE  BLACK-TAILED  HARE      231 

feeling  of  malicious  joy,  if  he  were  in  a  condi- 
tion to  know  anything  at  all  about  it.  The 
larvae  are  set  free  in  the  stomach  of  the  coyote 
by  digestion  of  the  vesicle  that  surrounds  them, 
and  a  certain  proportion  succeed  in  attaching 
themselves  by  their  hooks  and  suckers  to  the 
walls  of  the  small  intestine;  fortunately  only  a 
very  small  proportion.  Their  way  is  beset  with 
dangers,  and  their  extraordinary  fecundity  is 
calculated  in  proportion  to  their  chances  of 
safety.  The  tapeworm  is  a  colony  of  hermaph- 
rodites, each  joint  of  which  is  a  sexually  com- 
plete animal,  male  and  female,  containing 
thousands  of  eggs.  It  reaches  maturity  in  about 
six  weeks,  after  which  period  the  lower  joints, 
and  numerous  free  eggs,  are  discharged  at  each 
evacuation  and  deposited  upon  the  ground, 
weeds,  or  grass. 

"The  eggs  are  so  small  as  to  be  quite  invisi- 
ble to  the  unaided  eye,  and  being  furnished 
with  a  thick  envelope  have  considerable  tenac- 
ity of  life.  The  hare  swallows  the  eggs,  either 
by  feeding  upon  the  grass  and  weeds  or  by 
drinking  from  pools  of  water  into  which  they 
have  been  washed.  In  the  stomach  the  thick 


232      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

envelope  is  digested,  the  contained  embryo  is 
set  free,  and  immediately  starts  for  its  pre- 
destined resting-place.  This  microscopic  em- 
bryo is  furnished  with  six  booklets  by  means  of 
which  it  penetrates  the  walls  of  the  intestine 
and  embeds  itself  in  the  muscular  tissue.  Here 
it  ceases  to  move,  its  booklets  fall  off,  and  it 
slowly  develops  into  a  polycephalos  [many- 
headed]  vesicle."  l 

1  Zoc,  vol.  I. 


CALLISAURUS,  THE  GRIDIRON-TAILED 
LIZARD 


CALLISAURUS,  THE  GRIDIRON-TAILED 
LIZARD 

(Callisaurus  ventralis) 

"SPEEDING  like  greased  lightning"  is  hardly 
a  figurative  expression  when  applied  to  that 
active  and  agile  saurian,  the  gridiron- tailed 
lizard.  Starting  off  at  full  speed,  with  his  black 
banded  tail  held  in  air  "as  if  afraid  to  let  it 
touch  the  hot  earth, "  he  scoots  across  the  sand 
as  if  "shot  from  a  cannon/'  None  of  our  desert 
lizards  can  move  so  fast  nor  can  any  run  so  far 
without  fatigue.  To  arouse  one  of  these  "sand- 
lappers"  from  his  seeming  lethargy  while  at 
rest,  and  get  him  going  at  full  speed  in  front 
of  you,  is  an  act  always  hugely  productive  of 
pleasure.  Generally  they  move  in  great  circles, 
but  when  on  long,  open  stretches,  where  there 
is  scarcely  trace  of  vegetation  behind  which  to 
hide,  they  run  a  straight  course.  Then  it  is  that 
you  see  them  racing  at  their  best.  Some  ob- 
servers have  ventured  to  assert  that  these  swift 
runners  when  excited  will,  in  their  anxiety  for 


236      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

speed,  rear  their  bodies  upright  and  proceed  on 
their  hind  limbs  like  bipeds.  When  I  was  telling 
this  to  Loco  Tom  at  Stovepipe  Springs,  he 
matched  it  with  this  yet  greater  absurd  state- 
ment: "Why,  up  here  these  lizards  run  so  fast 
on  hot  days  that  they  have  to  stop  every  once 
in  a  while,  turn  over  on  their  backs,  and  put 
their  feet  up  in  the  air  to  cool  them  off  in  the 
wind." 

It  has  always  been  a  puzzle  to  me  to  explain 
how  these  swift-moving  creatures  can  so  easily 
find  a  hole  for  refuge  while  in  movement.  When 
going  at  top  speed  they  can  "spot"  a  burrow 
and  suddenly  duck  into  it  as  if  they  had  known 
it  was  there  all  the  while.  Such  is  their  momen- 
tum that  you  cannot  see  how  by  any  possible 
means  they  can  keep  from  shooting  straight 
over  the  abrupt  hollow. 

When  at  rest  their  heads  and  shoulders  are 
held  up  high  in  such  a  position  as  to  favor  care- 
ful observation  and  alertness.  The  pelvis  and 
the  tail  rest  flat  upon  the  ground.  The  knees  of 
the  rear  legs  stand  out  at  right  angles  from  the 
body  and  are  "elevated  to  such  a  degree  that 
they  nearly  reach  the  plane  of  the  back."  This 


CALLISAURUS  237 

position  makes  it  possible  for  them  to  spring 
into  action  at  a  moment's  notice.  When  ready 
to  run,  the  whole  body  is  well  elevated,  the  tail 
flung  up  over  the  back,  and  away  they  go  — 
mere  streaks  of  white  on  the  silver  sand. 

While  on  the  Ralston  Desert  of  Nevada  I  saw 
a  male  and  a  female  making  most  peculiar  and 
striking  flirtations  to  one  another,  the  two 
waltzing  back  and  forth  before  each  other  in 
amorous  antics  much  as  mocking-birds  are 
wont  to  do  during  the  mating  season.  Until  I 
came  almost  upon  them  they  seemed  so  en- 
wrapped in  their  wooings  and  waltzings  that 
they  did  not  notice  my  approach  in  the  least. 
The  movements  were  exceedingly  graceful  and 
full  of  weird  rhythm. 

These  lizards  are  carnivores  of  a  big  appetite, 
and  all  sorts  of  tiny  creatures,  from  insects  to 
reptiles,  fall  victims  to  their  voracity.  It  is 
common  enough  practice  for  them  to  turn 
cannibals  and  eat  their  own  offspring  —  rather 
despicable  business,  this  eating  of  one's  own 
children,  but  possibly  considered  good  form  in 
reptiledom.  We  are  glad  to  learn  that  at  least 
a  part  of  their  food  is  of  a  vegetable  nature  — 


238      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

sometimes   half  their  sustenance  comes  from 
buds  and  foliage. 

The  gridiron-tailed  lizard  has  received  its 
common  name  because  of  the  broad  black  bands 
found  on  the  underside  of  the  tail,  which  are  so 
conspicuous  when  this  appendage  is  reared  in 
flight.  This  interesting  lizard  is  found  quite 
uniformly  distributed  over  the  sandy  plains  and 
gravelly  washes  of  both  the  Colorado  and  the 
Mohave  Deserts  of  California;  also  in  western 
Nevada  and  southern  Utah,  where  it  is  one  of 
the  most  abundant  lizards  of  the  region.  Dur- 
ing winter  it  is  dormant. 


SAUROMALUS,  THE  CHUCKWALLA 


SAUROMALUS,  THE  CHUCKWALLA 

(Sauromalus  ater) 

THIS  morning  "old  man  chuckwalla"  came  out 
of  his  winter  hiding  looking  as  wrinkled  and 
shriveled  as  a  withered  apple.  His  black  beady 
skin  hung  on  him  in  folds  like  the  hide  of  an  old 
elephant,  and,  as  he  clumsily  clambered  upon  a 
big  flat  red  rock  and  blinked  his  sleepy  eyes  in 
the  sun,  he  appeared  to  have  emerged  from  his 
winter  torpor  with  only  woe  as  his  portion  and 
without  a  sign  to  show  that  he  could  appreciate 
the  new  awakening  spirit  of  spring.  The  brown- 
shouldered  lizards  had  been  sporting  about 
playing  tag  with  one  another  in  the  sun  for  over 
a  month  or  more,  the  rock  wrens  had  been 
making  love  flirtations  for  a  fortnight.  Even  a 
few  hairy  caterpillars  had  ventured  forth  to 
feed  days  ago,  risking  being  gobbled  up  by  the 
voracious  black-throated  sparrows.  The  chuck- 
walla  comes  forth  among  the  most  belated  of 
all  the  season's  guests. 

But  wait  —  there  is  good  reason  for  his  tardi- 
ness.  He,  you  must  remember,  is  a  feeder  on 


242      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

tender  buds  and  blossoms,  and  why  should  he 
come  to  the  feast  before  it  is  set?  Many  of  the 
lizards  can  live  on  insects,  but  he  must  wait 
until  the  flowers  have  unfurled,  and  this  is 
usually  somewhat  advanced  in  the  season's 
cycle.  The  elixir  vita  that  brings  rejuvenescence 
to  the  wrinkled  body  is  found  in  the  petals  of 
the  flowers  that  come  with  the  suns  of  March. 
To  arrive  before  would  be  to  come  to  an  empty 
table.  Homely,  clumsy,  stolid,  unfinished-look- 
ing, and  awkward  of  limb,  yet  he  is  the  daintiest 
of  feeders  —  and  behind  those  sleepy  eyes  lies 
wisdom. 

Not  to  mention  the  Gila  Monster,  the  chuck- 
walla  is  our  largest  iguanid  lizard,  a  full-grown 
individual  attaining  a  length  of  eighteen  inches. 
The  general  coloration  of  the  body  is  brownish 
black  or  gray  with  darker  cross-bars,  these 
latter  being  most  clearly  defined  in  young  speci- 
mens. The  blunt  tail  is  usually  mottled  or 
marbled  with  white.  In  rare  instances  it  is  en- 
tirely white.  "It  is  a  curious  fact,  however," 
says  Dr.  Merriam,  "that  the  distinctness  —  or 
even  the  presence  or  absence  —  of  these  cross- 
bars, especially  on  the  tail,  is  changeable  in  the 


THE  CHUCKWALLA  243 

same  individual,  and  apparently  dependent  on 
the  intensity  of  light  to  which  the  animal  is 
exposed/' 

Every  part  of  the  body  is  built  for  a  purpose. 
Though  it  appears  queer  in  form,  yet  a  study  of 
it  will  reveal  that  the  chuckwalla  is  encumbered 
with  none  of  those  useless  and  over-exaggerated 
specialized  structures  which  have  so  often 
marked  senescence  among  reptiles.  The  clumsy, 
fat,  blunt  tail  is  his  chief  weapon  of  defense, 
and  he  can  flop  it  vigorously  when  occasion 
demands  that  he  use  it.  The  smart  blows  he 
gives  cause  all  his  enemies  to  take  notice  of  him. 
He  looks  lazy  and  stupid,  but  approach  him  and 
see  how  quickly  his  short,  stubby  limbs  enable 
him  to  drop  out  of  sight  and  into  a  place  of 
safety.  The  flat  body  makes  it  possible  for  him 
to  squeeze  himself  into  extremely  narrow  cracks 
in  the  rocks,  and  because  of  his  loose,  elastic 
skin  he  is  able  to  inflate  himself  so  tightly  that 
not  the  strongest  man  can  pull  him  out  from 
his  place  of  safety.  Rather  will  he  surrender  his 
tail  to  Cerberus  than  give  up  his  body  to  his 
enemy.  The  lizard-eating  Indians,  the  Sho- 
shones,  Cahuillas,  and  their  near  cousins  the 


244      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

Piutes,  however,  got  the  better  of  him;  for  they 
were  accustomed  to  carry  with  them  a  sharp- 
pointed,  hooked  stick,  and  when  they  saw  a 
chuckwalla  which  they  wanted  for  food  they 
punctured  his  inflated  hide,  and,  against  his 
will,  pulled  him  out  of  his  retreat. 

The  Indians  prepared  chuckwallas  for  eating 
by  roasting  them  over  a  bed  of  coals.  There  is 
no  reason  to  believe  that  the  white  flesh  is  not 
palatable. 

Chuckwallas  are  rupestrine  lizards  generally 
living  around  dark  rocks,  such  as  iron-stained 
granites  or  lavas.  They  are  frequent  in  almost 
all  the  lower  desert  ranges  from  southwestern 
Utah  and  southern  Nevada  westward  to  the 
Death  Valley  region  and  southward  to  Lower 
California. 

Much  of  interest  concerning  the  life-history 
of  this  remarkable  lizard  awaits  some  patient 
observer  who  will  watch  chuckwallas,  not  in  a 
cage,  but  in  their  native  home.  Who  will  tell 
us  the  age  they  attain?  Where  do  they  lay 
their  eggs?  What  are  their  breeding  habits? 


THE  SIDEWINDER 


THE  SIDEWINDER 
(Cro talus  cerastes) 

HE  is  the  most  vicious  in  appearance,  most  un- 
usual in  habit,  and  most  feared  by  man  of  all 
the  reptiles  of  the  desert.  He  is  so  tiny  that  he 
seems  made  for  a  plaything,  yet  there  is  no  man 
who  is  not  ready  to  reckon  him  a  beast  of  pro- 
portions when  the  measure  of  horribleness  is 
applied  and  not  the  rule  of  girth  or  length.  His 
hand  is  against  every  creature:  he  is  no  falsifier: 
he  carries  no  mark  of  innocent  countenance  to 
bespeak  friendliness  where  none  exists.  The 
green  glares  of  cruelty  are  in  his  eyes  and  the 
hornlike  scales  above  them  give  him  the  malig- 
nant aspect  that  befits  his  splenetic  and  ugly 
temper.  His  actions  are  quick,  his  aim  is  sure, 
and  demonlike  he  prowls  about  in  the  darkness 
of  night,  by  day  lurking  beneath  bushes  where 
his  enemies  cannot  see  him,  but  where  he  can 
strike  the  passer-by  to  advantage.  This  is  the 
sidewinder  —  pygmy  rattlesnake  of  the  desert 
sands. 


248      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

The  outstanding  feature  of  uniqueness  which 
readily  separates  this  from  all  other  rattle- 
snakes, and  which  gives  to  the  sidewinder  his 
vernacular  name,  is  his  peculiar  mode  of  pro- 
gression. Instead  of  moving  forward  in  the 
manner  of  ordinary  snakes,  he  moves  away 
sidewise,  keeping  in  the  meantime  his  broadside 
always  toward  the  observer  —  a  motion  which 
is  especially  advantageous  in  carrying  him  over 
the  sands.  It  is  a  somewhat  looping  movement 
and  the  tracks  which  are  left  in  the  sands  are 
peculiarly  different  from  those  of  all  other 
rattlesnakes,  being  not  continuous,  but  dis- 
jointed, and  resembling  a  series  of  colonial  .//"'s, 
each  separated  by  a  space  of  three  or  four 
inches.  Sidewinders  apparently  have  a  special 
fondness  for  crawling  along  in  wagon  tracks, 
and  it  is  here  where  I  have  most  often  noticed 
the  peculiar  marks. 

All  other  rattlesnakes  must  coil  at  least  to 
some  extent  before  they  strike,  but  this  erratic 
snake  strikes  "on  the  run,"  securing  leverage 
for  his  head  by  arching  the  neck,  after  the  fash- 
ion of  a  swan.  This  gives  him  an  unmeasurable 
advantage  over  his  other  crotaline  cousins  and 


THE  SIDEWINDER,  OR  HORNED  RATTLESNAKE 


THE  PALLID  RATTLER  (Crotalus  mitchellii) 


THE  SIDEWINDER  249 

heightens  greatly  his  danger  to  man;  for  he  is 
always  ready  to  attack  the  moment  he  is  ap- 
proached. 

The  average  length  of  an  adult  sidewinder  is 
about  fifteen  inches.  His  girth  is  about  equal 
to  that  of  a  man's  middle  finger  but  may  be 
greater  if  food  has  recently  been  taken.  The 
dorsal  ground  color  of  white  and  the  bands  of 
brownish  on  his  body  give  him  a  high  degree  of 
protection  on  the  gray  granitic  sands  on  which 
Nature  intended  he  should  live. 

As  briefly  stated  before,  sidewinders  are 
almost  wholly  a  night-roving  species,  doing 
most  of  their  hunting  under  cover  of  darkness 
—  the  time  when  the  kangaroo  rats  and  wild 
mice,  their  chief  fare,  are  most  active  and  most 
plentifully  found.  During  the  day,  especially 
in  summer,  they  generally  seek  the  shelter  of 
rock  crevices  or  hide  under  bushes  where  they 
can  avoid  the  fierce  heat.  To  expose  themselves 
long  to  the  sun  on  a  desert  day,  when  it  is  hot 
enough  to  cook  eggs  in  the  sand,  would  be  to 
invite  death.  Five  to  ten  minutes'  exposure  on 
the  superheated  sand  in  the  glaring  sun  rays 
of  midsummer  is  sufficient  to  kill.  Generally, 


250      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

when  found  during  the  day,  they  are  seen 
wound  tightly  about  the  bases  of  shrubs  or 
tightly  coiled  up  in  a  compact  little  mat  or  pad 
in  the  shade.  If  able  to  find  some  slight  de- 
pression, they  curl  up  in  that,  quite  often  utiliz- 
ing the  hoofmarks  made  by  cattle.  These  their 
coiled  forms  just  about  fit. 

As  soon  as  the  sun  goes  down,  they  begin  to 
wander  abroad  upon  the  warm  sands.  Walking 
along  the  railroad  tracks  at  this  time  of  day  I 
have  often  found  them  stretched  along  the 
flange  of  the  hot  rails  absorbing  the  heat  from 
the  fast  radiating  steel.  Because  of  the  side- 
winder's nocturnal  habits  I  have  never  fancied 
desert  travel  by  night  in  summer,  especially 
when  afoot.  All  experienced  desert  travelers 
feel  much  the  same  as  I  do  in  so  far  as  I  can 
learn.  The  rattle  of  this  snake  is  small  and 
seldom  used,  and  there  is  nothing  to  warn  one 
of  its  presence.  The  great  Mammoth  Wash 
at  its  southeastern  end  of  the  Salton  Sink  is  a 
place  where  sidewinders  are  especially  abun- 
dant, and  it  has  a  most  evil  reputation  even 
among  the  oldest  "desert  rats/'  as  the  veteran 
prospectors  are  called.  They  avoid  traveling 


THE  SIDEWINDER  251 

across  it  at  night  in  summer  whenever  possible, 
and  if  it  is  absolutely  necessary  to  go  over  it 
they  all  resolve  in  most  solemn  terms  "to  go 
straight  through  and  not  stop  to  camp  once." 
Who  enjoys  a  rattlesnake  crawling  over  one's 
covers  at  night? 

One  evening  in  late  May,  while  a  friend  and 
myself  were  sitting  on  a  rock  quietly  munching 
a  crust,  I  espied  a  moving  object  near  one  of 
our  bed-rolls.  Watching  it  more  closely  I  no- 
ticed that  it  was  a  small  serpent  crawling  into 
the  blankets.  Realizing  that  it  might  be  a 
dangerous  reptile,  I  took  a  near-by  stick  in  my 
hand  and  went  up  and  carefully  unrolled  the 
bedding.  As  I  had  suspected,  there  lay  a  little 
sidewinder.  I  do  not  like  to  think  of  what 
might  have  happened  had  my  eyes  not  detected 
in  the  semi-darkness  the  snake  moving  into  his 
hiding.  I  cannot  too  strongly  urge  my  readers 
when  camping  on  the  desert  in  late  spring  and 
summer  always  to  make  up  their  beds  anew 
each  evening  just  before  retiring;  for  not  only 
rattlesnakes,  but  such  other  unpleasant  visitors 
as  centipedes,  vinegaroons,  and  scorpions  may 
have  found  a  hiding-place  between  the  covers 


252      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

since  last  they  were  used.  Furthermore,  I  think 
it  shows  good  judgment  to  sleep  off  the  ground 
on  a  cot  swinging  from  a  tree  if  possible,  as  soon 
as  the  warm  nights  begin.  There  is  no  use  tak- 
ing chances. 

There  is  abroad  a  colossally  absurd  notion 
that  rattlesnakes  are  always  found  in  pairs,  and 
that  if  you  kill  one  the  other  will  soon  seek  its 
mate.  It  is  quite  possible  that  during  the  spring 
months,  that  is,  the  mating  season,  they  may 
occasionally  be  found  near  to  one  another,  but 
this  pairing  is  only  temporary  and  during  the 
remainder  of  the  year  individuals  wander  soli- 
tarily. 

All  rattlesnakes  are  ovoviviparous;  that  is, 
they  hatch  their  eggs  before  they  are  laid.  The 
egg,  with  its  yolk,  white,  and  thin,  flexible, 
membraneous  shell,  is  formed  within  the  ovi- 
duct of  the  female,  but  it  never  leaves  the  body. 
Hence  the  young  are  born  alive. 

Crotalus  cerastes,  the  horned  rattlesnake,  or 
sidewinder,  is  the  most  characteristic  snake  of 
the  Lower  Sonoran  Desert  areas  of  the  Great 
Basin  —  southeastern  California  to  southern 
Nevada,  southwestern  Utah  and  Arizona.  In 


THE  SIDEWINDER  253 

general  it  confines  itself  to  the  sandy  and  grav- 
elly expanses,  leaving  the  higher  and  more 
rocky  desert  mountain  regions  to  be  occupied 
by  the  tiger  and  the  pallid  rattlesnake. 


TESTUDO.  THE  DESERT  TORTOISE 


TESTUDO,  THE  DESERT  TORTOISE 

(Gopherus  agassizii) 

IT  is  interesting  to  imagine  the  frame  of  mind 
of  those  early  Western  travelers  who,  wholly 
ignorant  of  the  existence  of  dry-land  tortoises, 
espied  for  the  first  time  these  queer  turtle-like 
creatures  shuffling  clumsily  across  their  trail. 
We  can  almost  see  them  " glowing"  like  old 
Tarn,  himself,  "amazed  and  curious/1  and 
rubbing  their  eyes  twice,  then  once  again,  to 
make  themselves  sure  that  tortoises  in  a  desert 
wilderness  are  things  of  reality  and  not  the 
apparitions  of  a  dream.  To  their  minds  tor- 
toises must  have  always  been  reptiles  closely 
associated  with  water,  and  to  find  them  here  in 
the  arid  deserts  far  away  from  even  a  suggestion 
of  dampness  must  have  seemed  a  most  extraor- 
dinary sight  if  not  an  anomaly.  When  their 
travels  had  carried  them  well  within  the  range 
of  this  remarkable  chelonian,  these  immigrants 
must  soon  have  seen  a  sufficient  number  of  them 
to  feel  assured  that  the  first  ones  they  saw  were 


258      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

neither  luckless  strays  from  some  water-hole 
nor  wayfaring  turtles  homeward  bound  to  the 
ocean  after  a  race  with  the  desert  hares;  for  in 
those  days  Agassiz  tortoises  were  plentiful  all 
over  both  the  Colorado  and  Mohave  Deserts 
and  in  southern  Nevada. 

Generally  these  tortoises  are  found  on  the 
flat  plots  of  ground  of  the  high  rocky  mesas 
where  a  fair  abundance  of  succulent,  growing 
herbs  assures  them  of  an  abundant  food  supply, 
at  least  during  the  spring  season.  During  April 
and  May,  when  both  days  and  nights  are  balmy 
and  warm,  they  are  out  feeding  at  all  hours. 
Often  when  traveling  at  night  I  have  seen  them 
by  aid  of  the  brilliant  moonlight.  As  soon  as  the 
real  blistering  days  of  summer  come,  not  a  tor- 
toise can  be  seen  by  day.  No  animals  except  a 
few  of  the  insects  and  lizards  can  stand  the 
intense  heat  radiated  then  from  the  glaring 
rocks  and  sands  and  soda  flats.  At  a  point  near 
Amboy  on  the  Mohave  Desert  the  temperature 
has  been  known  to  be  as  high  as  136°  F.  in  the 
shade  at  midday,  falling  to  only  114°  F.  by  two 
o'clock  the  morning  following.  A  special  ther- 
mometer placed  in  the  open  sun  recorded  a 


THE  DESERT  TORTOISE          259 

temperature  of  249°  F.  To  be  out  under  such 
conditions  is  literally  to  be  cooked  alive.  The 
tortoises  are  wise  enough  to  be  under  the  rocks 
and  bushes  then  and  to  confine  their  feeding  to 
the  night  hours.  Sometimes  in  summer  they  pass 
into  a  state  of  dormancy  and  do  not  eat  at  all. 

In  late  October  and  early  November,  when 
the  nights  begin  to  get  snappy,  they  begin  to 
"  hole  up,"  as  the  desert  people  say,  seeking  the 
shelter  of  the  ground  for  the  winter's  sleep. 
Tortoises  found  in  winter  are  numb  and  seem- 
ingly lifeless.  Strange  it  is,  but  they  do  not 
then  have  their  heads  drawn  in  under  the  cara- 
pace for  protection.  The  eyes  are  closed,  and 
nothing  but  heat  will  arouse  them. 

Desert  tortoises,  like  turtles,  are  always  slow 
of  foot,  and  when  approached  they  seem  to 
know  immediately  that  the  best  thing  to  do  is 
to  stop  abruptly  and  draw  in  their  heads  and 
feet.  In  this  latter  act  they  are  remarkably  and 
almost  ridiculously  quick  —  so  quick,  indeed, 
that  they  give  no  creature  the  least  chance  to 
injure  them.  As  the  head  is  drawn  in,  they 
forcibly  eject  through  their  tiny  nostrils  the  air 
from  their  lungs  and  so  produce  a  rather  alarm- 


260      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

ing  hiss.  Securely  encased  in  their  shells,  like 
non-resisting  Quakers  they  wait  in  quietness 
and  find  safety  in  passive  resistance. 

To  the  Piute  and  Shoshone  Indians  inhabit- 
ing the  Great  Basin  the  economic  importance 
of  this  dry-land  "  turtle1'  was  considerable. 
These  native  people,  who  knew  no  natural 
repugnance  to  the  use  of  lizards  and  snakes  as 
food,  used  tortoises  freely,  as  the  great  numbers 
of  "shells"  found  around  their  old  campoodies 
show. 

To-day  many  of  them  are  caught  by  the 
whites  and  cooked  up  into  soups  and  stews,  and 
one  may  occasionally  find  the  savory  meat 
offered  on  the  tables  of  small-town  restaurants 
of  the  desert. 

In  so  far  as  I  can  learn  these  remarkable 
chelonians  have,  besides  man,  few  enemies. 
The  foolish  coyotes,  hunger-bent,  sometimes 
make  dolts  of  themselves  by  attempting  to  get 
mside  the  shell.  Many  a  tortoise  bears  on  his 
shell  the  toothmark-record  of  an  encounter 
with  these  wild  dogs  of  the  deserts.  I  am  not 
quite  so  sure  but  that  a  coyote  might  make  a 
wretched  meal  off  a  soft-shelled  baby  tortoise, 


THE  DESERT  TORTOISE          261 

swallowing  it  half-chewed  like  an  oyster,  but 
as  to  getting  a  feast  out  of  one  of  the  hard- 
carapaced  adults,  I  am  more  doubtful.  It 
seems  he  might  as  well  chew  rocks.  We  can 
well  fancy  the  chuckling  sense  of  pleasure  the 
tortoise,  knowing  his  safety,  has  when  he  finds 
himself  rolled  over  and  over  and  pawed  about 
by  the  foolish  dog  simpleton,  or  feels  the  long 
sharp-fanged  canine  jaws  harmlessly  biting, 
but  never  making  more  than  a  mere  impression 
on  the  hard-shelled  armament.  We  can  with 
imagination's  aid  see  the  outwitted  coyote 
finally  leaving  the  tortoise  in  disgust  and  yowl- 
ing in  similar  vein  to  the  foolish  fox  who  un- 
successfully attempted  to  rob  the  vineyard, 
"Oh,  I  never  did  like  tortoise  meat,  anyway/' 
But  though  the  chelonian  has  been  unharmed 
by  the  coyote's  jaws,  woe  may  yet  overtake 
him  if  by  some  unhappy  chance  the  coyote  on 
departing  should  have  left  him  lying  flat  on  his 
back  on  some  perfectly  barren  level  spot:  his 
end  must  now  be  death  through  starvation  and 
exposure.  The  shell  of  his  back  is  so  high- 
domed  that,  struggle  as  he  may,  he  cannot  get 
his  clumsy  feet  to  the  ground  to  turn  himself 


262      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

over.  Had  he  been  so  fortunate  as  to  have  been 
turned  upside  down  on  some  place  where  tall 
grass  or  tufted  herbs  were  growing,  there  might 
have  been  a  chance  for  him.  An  extra  long 
stretch  and  twist  of  the  neck  and  a  bit  of  tortu- 
ous struggling  with  the  elephant-like  rear  feet 
would  under  these  circumstances  have  put  him 
over. 

How  does  Gopherus1  get  his  water?  Watch 
him  in  the  early  morning  after  a  rain  when 
there  are  droplets  of  water  or  dew  on  the  herbs, 
and  you  will  see  him  nosing  up  to  them  and 
catching  the  dangling  water  pearls  in  his  horny 
beak.  However,  like  his  fabled  racing  competi- 
tor, the  hare,  he  gets  most  of  his  moisture  from 
the  herbage  he  eats. 

It  is  always  a  matter  of  speculation  when  we 
attempt  to  give  the  age  of  an  adult  specimen. 
A  tortoise  grows  so  slowly  that  it  is  almost 
impossible  to  see  any  change  in  size  in  any 
single  year.  The  largest  ones  measure  fifteen 
inches  or  more  across  and  are  doubtless  very 
old.  How  many  times  have  I  wished,  as  I  have 
seen  these  venerable  creatures  gazing  up  at 
1  Gopherus  is  the  generic  name  for  the  tortoise. 


THE  DESERT  TORTOISE  263 

me  from  out  their  brown-irised  eyes,  that  the 
dumb  mouth  could  speak  and  tell  me  of  the 
things  that  have  come  to  pass  during  their  life- 
time in  their  big  wilderness  world. 

Tortoises  make  excellent  pets.  Give  them 
but  an  out-of-the-way  corner  of  your  lawn  and 
they  will  stay  with  you  for  years,  content  on 
such  humble  fare  as  lettuce  and  Bermuda  grass 
and  asking  nothing  of  you  but  the  sufferance  to 
live.  And  why  should  we  not  learn  something 
from  these  little  dumb  brothers  of  ours? 
Nature  has  withheld  from  them  the  gift  of  ex- 
pression, but  they  may  speak  to  us  just  the 
same,  teaching  us  simplicity,  humility,  and 
gentleness. 

There  is  a  certain  nobility  of  form  and  de- 
meanor about  these  beautiful  chelonians  that 
has  always  appealed  to  me,  and  it  is  always 
with  a  sense  of  sorrow  that  I  see  them  carried 
off  and  piteously  slaughtered.  Several  times  I 
have  seen  them  piled  by  dozens  in  great  crates 
and  ruthlessly  taken  to  the  city  markets,  there 
to  be  butchered  to  satisfy  the  gormandizing 
epicures  who  can  afford  and  will  pay  such  fancy 
prices  as  this  meat  brings.  Like  lobsters  the 


264      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

poor  things  are  thrust  into  boiling  water  (some- 
times in  cold  water  and  then  brought  to  a  boil) 
—  a  practice  which  must  elicit  the  sympathy 
of  any  one  who  has  any  sense  of  pity  for  God's 
sentient  creatures. 


THE  VINEGAROON 


THE  VINEGAROON 

"MATA  VENADO!  mata  venado!"  l  screamed  a 
Mexican  laborer  as  he  hastily  jumped  up  from 
his  seat  by  the  camp-fire.  Judging  from  his 
excitment  I  might  have  expected  to  see  some 
reptile  as  big  as  a  rattlesnake  crawling  out  from 
the  place  where  he  sat.  "Mata  venado!  mata 
venado!"  he  hysterically  cried  again  as  he 
pointed  down  with  quivering  finger  to  a  queer, 
tan-colored  spiderlike  creature  that  ran  swiftly 
off  his  sleeve  and  almost  into  the  fire. 

"It  is  only  a  harmless  vinegaroon,"  I  said. 
"He  cannot  hurt  you." 

But  the  poor  man  was  so  frightened  he  could 
not  be  quieted,  and  all  my  explanations  did  not 
avail  to  get  him  to  sit  down  with  us  again. 

"Did  he  bite  you,  sefior?"  I  asked. 

"  No!  No!  But  he  might,  and  if  he  did  I  would 
die.  That  is  what  happens  to  all  who  are  bitten. 

1  Spanish  name  locally  applied  to  the  vinegaroon ;  literally, 
kill  deer.  The  common  name  is  a  misapplication  of  a  name  gen- 
erally given  to  a  Mexican  species  of  whip  scorpion  which  emits, 
when  alarmed,  a  vinegar-like  odor. 


268      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

Why,  if  a  mule  even  drinks  water  from  a  trough 
in  which  a  vinegaroon  has  died,  he  will  die  too." 

While  not  all  Mexicans  hold  the  vinegaroon 
in  such  dread  as  did  this  man,  yet  there  are 
great  numbers  of  them  who  feel  just  as  he  felt 
about  them.  It  is  an  old  superstition  that  can- 
not be  uprooted. 

I  must  admit  that  there  is  something  un- 
canny and  strange-looking  about  these  queer 
animals  with  their  four  enormous,  sharp- 
pointed,  protruding  jaws,  and  it  is  not  strange 
that  the  ignorant  are  afraid  of  them.  They  run 
around  so  bewilderingly  fast  and  in  such  helter- 
skelter  fashion  that  you  can  never  be  just  sure 
when  they  are  going  to  crawl  all  over  you.  Small 
wonder  that  they  are  called  "  wind-scorpions " 
sometimes! 

During  the  day  the  solpugids,  as  these  crea- 
tures are  technically  known,  hide  in  crevices  in 
wood  and  under  stones,  and  too  often  we  find 
them  seeking  refuge  in  the  folds  of  the  camp 
blankets  or  in  the  pack  boxes.  At  night  they 
come  out,  run  about,  and,  while  very  actively 
darting  here  and  there,  pounce  upon  insects 
and  suck  them  for  their  blood.  The  population 


THE  VINEGAROON  269 

of  an  ant  community  is  often  called  upon  to 
offer  up  a  great  number  of  individuals  to  satisfy 
the  appetite  of  these  greedy  pugnacious  mon- 
sters. Vinegaroons,  that  can  get  into  wire  fly 
traps  and  are  willing  to  remain  in  the  "  prison 
perilous,"  kill  a  great  number  of  flies  and  on 
such  a  diet  grow  very  fat  and  monstrously 
large. 

The  solpugids  do  not  depend  upon  the  aid  of 
any  poison  in  bringing  their  captured  prey  into 
submission  as  do  the  spiders.  According  to 
Comstock,  no  poison  glands  are  found  and  the 
bite,  outside  of  its  mechanical  effect,  is  harm- 
less. 

These  creatures  seem  to  occupy  an  inter- 
mediate position  between  scorpions  and  spiders, 
but  show  in  their  anatomical  structure  a  radical 
departure  from  the  structure  of  either  of  these. 
The  head  and  thorax  are  fused  in  one,  and  the 
first  pair  of  legs  is  joined  to  the  head  —  a 
most  unusual  position.  The  pedipalps  (the 
second  pair  of  appendages  lying  on  either  side 
of  the  mouth  and  which  in  scorpions  serve  as 
pincers)  are  as  long  as  the  true  legs  and  like 
them  are  used  as  organs  of  locomotion.  Through 


270      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

this  adaptation  a  solpugid  has  use  of  five  pairs 
of  walking  appendages  instead  of  four  as  does 
a  spider.  A  spider  breathes  by  means  of  book 
lungs,  but  a  solpugid  takes  in  its  air  'through 
tracheal  tubes  after  the  manner  of  insects. 


THE  DESERT  HORNED  LIZARD 


THE  DESERT  HORNED  LIZARD 

(Phrynosoma  platyrhinos) 

ALL  those  who  have  walked  abroad  on  the 
desert  at  all  observantly  must  have  met  that 
little  lizard  of  the  sands  which  has  achieved  its 
fame  under  the  name  of  the  horned  toad.  Be- 
cause of  its  wide  departure  from  the  unprepos- 
sessing snakelike  form  of  many  of  its  reptilian 
congeners,  and  because  of  its  unique  and  inter- 
esting habits,  it  has  doubtless  earned  the  good 
will  of  man  more  than  any  of  our  lizards.  I  have 
yet  to  find  among  the  roughest  miners  and 
frontiersmen  one  who  would  purposely  harm 
one;  they  always  speak  of  them  fondly. 

Near  Coyote  Holes  the  writer  found  a  vet- 
eran prospector  named  Johnson  who  had  four 
horned  lizards  about  his  shanty  and  he  seemed 
to  think  almost  as  much  of  them  as  he  did  his 
faithful  burros.  It  was  almost  pathetic  and  at 
the  same  time  pleasing  to  note  what  care  he 
bestowed  upon  them.  He  fed  them  almost 
daily  a  meal  of  flies  and  talked  to  them  as  to 


274      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

children.  There  was  seemingly  even  in  the 
hearts  of  those  dumb  creatures  some  feeling 
of  gratitude  and  fellowship.  They  apparently 
knew  their  friend,  and,  when  they  heard  him 
walking  about  with  his  heavy  hobnailed  boots 
on  the  rough  board  floor,  they  would  shuffle  out 
on  the  step  and  bask  there  in  the  sunshine  until 
their  beneficent  keeper  threw  down  some  meal 
worms  or  flies  and  talked  to  them.  They  would 
lick  up  the  flies  and  worms  with  their  viscid 
tongues  and  feed  until  full  when  they  would 
waddle  away  to  "  sleep  it  off." 

The  " horned  toad"  is  totally  different  in 
appearance  from  any  of  our  other  lizards.  The 
body  is  unusually  flattened,  and  he  carries  on 
his  head  those  enormous  horns  which  are  "with- 
out precedent  among  his  modern  kith  and  kin." 

"Any  one  who  has  seen  a  horned  lizard  on 
the  defensive,"  writes  Dr.  Harold  Bryant, 
"cannot  doubt  the  value  of  these  horns  as  a 
protection  to  the  animal.  With  its  head  lowered 
so  as  to  receive  any  blow  on  the  horns  and  the 
large  scales  of  the  back  elevated,  it  presents  a 
very  formidable  appearance." 

So  perfectly  does  the  horned  lizard's  light 


THE  DESERT  HORNED  LIZARD    275 

color  blend  with  the  gravel  and  sand  that  it  is 
almost  impossible  to  see  him  when  he  is  quiet. 
Time  after  time  when  walking  on  the  dunes  I 
have  almost  stepped  upon  horned  lizards,  and 
would  have  crushed  them  under  foot  had  they 
not  shambled  off  and  through  their  motion 
apprised  me  of  their  presence. 

A  detailed  examination  of  the  body  brings  to 
light  several  other  peculiar  adaptations  to  a  life 
on  the  sands. 

In  many  individuals  the  ear  drum  is  almost 
wholly  concealed  by  a  scaly  membrane,  a 
peculiarity  found  only  among  desert  species. 
The  ear  is  often  further  protected  by  folds  in 
the  scaly  skin  of  the  short  neck.  Just  beneath 
the  outer  horny  skin  covering  are  numerous 
pigment  cells,  each  with  its  yellow  pigment 
granule  or  chromatophore.  These  highly  de- 
veloped color  bodies  are  under  the  direct  con- 
trol of  the  nervous  system  and  the  animal  is 
able  to  make  color  adjustments  with  a  fair 
rapidity,  so  that  if  its  wanderings  carry  it  onto 
darker  or  lighter  soils  it  is  capable  of  bringing 
about  a  color  coat  suitable  to  its  environment. 

Mr.  Leonhard  Stejneger,  who  made  the  report 


276      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

on  the  reptiles  collected  on  the  Death  Valley 
Expedition  (1893),  found  that  the  horned  toads 
which  lived  on  the  intensely  white  alkali  soil 
around  Ash  Meadows  in  the  Amargosa  Desert 
were  much  [lighter  in  color  than  usual.  Other 
specimens  taken  elsewhere  showed  great  varia- 
tion in  color  ranging  "from  a  very  pale,  in  some 
nearly  whitish  drab-gray,  to  a  vivid  brick  red." 

The  bony,  rigidly  built  head  is  short  and 
triangular  in  shape  adapting  it  admirably  as 
a  tool  for  burrowing  into  the  sand.  When  a 
horned  lizard  desires  to  cover  himself  for  the 
night,  he  forces  his  wedge-shaped  head  into  the 
sand  just  like  a  chisel,  driving  it  forward  by 
means  of  the  legs.  To  facilitate  the  movement 
the  whole  body  is  wriggled  back  and  forth.  The 
last  act  in  the  burying  procedure  is  a  flip  of  the 
tail  which  covers  the  last  visible  appendage. 
It  is  surprising  in  what  a  short  time  the  animal 
is  completely  hidden. 

Horned  lizards  exhibit  a  marked  preference 
for  the  sandy  washes  and  are  never  known  to 
occur  on  the  rocky  hillside.  The  reason  for  this 
is  obvious,  it  being  absolutely  necessary  for 
them  to  have  loose  sand  in  which  to  make  their 


THE  DESERT  HORNED  LIZARD    277 

shelter  for  the  nights  and  cool  days.  They  are 
active  only  during  the  heat  of  the  day,  generally 
confining  their  activities  to  the  midday  hours, 
but  even  with  them  there  is  a  limit  to  the 
amount  of  heat  they  can  stand.  During  the 
hottest  part  of  the  summer  season  they  seek 
the  shade  or  go  under  the  sand  during  the  hours 
of  highest  temperature  and  do  their  feeding 
during  the  late  afternoon.  The  least  cool 
weather  sends  them  underground.  Their  hiber- 
nating season  begins  early  in  November  and 
continues  until  about  the  first  of  March. 

Dr.  Bryant,  who  has  made  a  special  study  of 
these  reptiles,  has  accumulated  abundant  evi- 
dence to  show  that  these  scaly  animals  are 
exemplary  destroyers  of  insects.  Left  to  their 
own  devices  they  destroy  an  amazing  number 
of  ants,  noxious  beetles,  and  flies.  "  Unless 
very  hungry,"  writes  Dr.  Bryant,  "live  insects 
alone  satisfy  a  Phrynosoma.  In  fact,  their  eyes 
seem  unable  to  distinguish  an  insect  unless  it 
moves,  so  that  this  may  largely  govern  the 
feeding  habit.  On  seeing  its  prey,  a  Phrynosoma 
has  a  habit  of  raising  and  lowering  itself  on  its 
front  legs  much  as  a  lizard  does  when  sunning 


278      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

itself  on  a  rock.  Always  when  feeding  it  raises 
itself  well  on  its  legs  seemingly  to  avoid  being 
bitten.  The  moment  the  insect  moves,  the 
horned  lizard  darts  for  it,  catches  it  on  the  end 
of  its  viscid  tongue,  swallows  it  alive,  and  backs 
off  again.  Why  this  animal  is  never  bothered 
by  being  stung  internally  by  the  ants  it  eats 
seems  hard  to  explain.  Certainly  the  mouth 
and  stomach  must  be  particularly  adapted  to 
withstand  the  poisonous  sting  of  insects,  for 
when  stung  externally  the  lizard  shows  no  little 
discomfiture.1' 

Sand,  dirt,  and  even  small  pebbles  are  often 
found  in  the  stomach.  These  are  probably 
taken  in  the  act  of  swallowing  the  prey.  I  have 
found  nematodes  (parasitic  round-worms)  in 
several  stomachs  I  have  personally  examined. 

It  is  believed  that  the  road-runner  and  the 
rattlesnake  are  his  two  worst  enemies.  Against 
such  an  enemy  as  the  road-runner,  whose  keen 
eye  is  ever  on  the  alert  to  discover  fresh  sources 
of  food  to  appease  his  enormous  appetite,  the 
slow-moving  horned  lizard  is  practically  de- 
fenseless. If  he  is  close  to  a  hole  or  bush,  or  if 
he  taxes  his  wits  to  the  limit,  he  may  try  to 


THE  DESERT  HORNED  LIZARD    279 

escape  by  burying  himself  in  the  soil,  but  his 
chances  for  escape  are  exceedingly  slim. 

The  tradition  found  among  the  Indians  to  the 
effect  that  a  horned  lizard  is  able  to  burrow  its 
way  out  of  a  rattlesnake's  stomach  seems  to 
have  some  foundation  in  fact.  "  Rattlesnakes 
have  been  found,"  writes  Dr.  Bryant,  "with  the 
head  of  a  horned  lizard  protruding  through  the 
body  wall.  Rattlesnakes  have  also  been  found 
with  the  horns  of  a  Phrynosoma  caught  in  the 
throat/' 

Several  young  are  borne  at  a  time,  each  a 
minute  edition  of  its  parents.  They  all  have 
their  trial  at  life,  but  because  of  the  many  ene- 
mies a  great  number  never  reach  the  adult  state. 
As  soon  as  the  spring  well  opens  up,  they  are 
very  much  in  evidence  in  almost  every  wash  or 
dune  area.  When  first  borne  .they  are  so  tiny 
that  it  would  seem  that  they  were  utterly  in- 
capable of  taking  care  of  themselves,  but  the 
great  number  of  adults  to  be  seen  at  any  time 
is  evidence  enough  that  they  are  very  well 
able  to  provide  themselves  with  both  food  and 
shelter. 

Horned  toads  in  moulting  shed,  not  the  entire 


280      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

skin  at  once  as  snakes  do,  but  scale  off  gradually. 
Since  the  skin  consists  of  continuous  layers,  it 
loosens  in  patches  of  various  sizes  and  either 
drops  of  its  own  accord  or  is  rubbed  off  by  the 
animal's  ordinary  movements.  The  cartilagi- 
nous caps  covering  the  horns  are  shed  in  one 
piece. 

The  desert  horned  lizard  inhabits  all  the  hot 
arid  low-plain  environments  of  the  Great  Basin 
and  Salton  Sink,  occurring  as  far  east  as  west- 
ern Utah.  In  the  extreme  southwestern  limits 
of  its  range  it  is  associated  with  the  flat-tailed 
horned  lizard  (Anota  macalli  Hallowell).  The 
horned  toad  of  the  Pacific  Slope  is  a  distinct 
species. 


SPILOGALE,  THE  SPOTTED  SKUNK 


SPILOGALE,  THE  SPOTTED  SKUNK 

(Spilogale  phenax) 

THE  spotted  skunk  is  an  industrious,  quick- 
witted, brave  little  animal.  Few  men  give  the 
credit  that  is  due  her  for  her  good  behavior 
under  trying  circumstances,  her  quiet  affection 
and  general  inoffensiveness.  A  little  spotted 
skunk  has  lived  under  my  house  now  these 
three  years,  and  in  all  this  time  she  has  behaved 
herself  as  a  perfect  little  lady,  and  has,  so  far  as 
I  know,  lived  on  good  terms  with  all  my  animal 
friends.  She  makes  her  evening  calls  about  the 
premises  without  sound  or  odor  and  assists  in 
work  by  picking  up  crumbs  in  the  yard  and 
keeping  the  place  comparatively  free  from 
insects. 

Skunks  have  their  effective  means  of  defense 
—  they  realize  its  efficacy  and  use  it  when 
severely  provoked;  but  they  realize  also  that 
the  fetid  oils  cannot  be  produced  in  unlimited 
quantities,  and  so  on  the  whole  they  are  pretty 
careful  to  emit  unpleasant  odors  only  when 


284      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

driven  to  it  by  necessity.  This  is  especially  true 
of  the  little  spotted  skunks.  For  this  reason 
they  often  live  in  peace  with  man,  while  the  big 
striped  fellows  are  hunted  down  and  shot. 

Only  once  in  all  my  out-of-door  experience 
have  I  come  into  unpleasant  relations  with  the 
spotted  skunk,  and  this  was  under  such  cir- 
cumstances that  I  felt  the  little  creature  was 
fully  justified  in  her  acts.  I  had  been  sleeping 
for  some  nights  on  a  cot  in  a  little  sandy  wash 
on  the  banks  of  which  was  a  thick  mass  of 
grasses.  Several  times  I  had  been  awakened  by 
a  skunk  which  was  jumping  about  in  the  grass 
catching  the  mischief-making  mice.  These 
small  rodents  she  caught  by  springing  upon 
them  and  then  holding  them  with  her  forepaws 
until  she  could  kill  them  with  her  sharp  teeth. 
On  this  particular  occasion  the  little  mouse  had 
in  some  way  the  advantage,  and,  squirming 
around,  bit  first,  causing  the  skunk  to  give  a 
squeaky  scream  and  unwittingly  to  make  life 
quite  unbearable  in  her  presence.  I  had  read  in 
natural  histories  that  the  odor  of  a  skunk  could 
produce  unconsciousness.  I  can  vouch  now  for 
the  truth  of  the  statement.  The  odoriferous, 


THE  SPOTTED  SKUNK  285 

ethereal  oil  was  shot  into  the  grass  immediately 
beside  my  head,  and  the  odor  was  so  strong  that 
I  was  overcome  and  at  least  for  several  minutes 
was  quite  unaware  of  all  that  happened  around 
me.  As  I  came  to  my  full  consciousness,  I  found 
my  eyes  smarting  and  my  nostrils  inflamed. 
Had  I  been  so  unfortunate  as  to  have  been  in 
the  direct  path  of  discharge  I  might  have  fared 
badly.  Persons  who  have  been  hit  directly  in 
the  eye  have  been  known  to  lose  their  sight. 

The  odor  of  the  spotted  skunk  is  not  very 
lasting  in  dry,  sunshiny  weather,  and  after  I 
burned  off  the  grass  next  morning  I  found  all 
traces  of  the  foulsome  scent  gone.  The  odor  of 
the  striped  skunk  is  much  more  nearly  perma- 
nent. Back  of  my  camp  on  the  Colorado  Desert 
I  have  a  beautiful  tussock  of  squaw  grass 
(Epicampes  rigens)  much  resembling,  though 
much  smaller,  the  pampas  grass  of  Argentine. 
On  several  occasions  I  had  noticed  that  there 
was  a  beaten  circular  path  beneath  it,  but  who 
the  pathmakers  were  I  did  not  know.  One  night 
I  heard  something  playing  under  my  cot,  and, 
stretching  my  head  over  the  side,  I  saw  by  the 
aid  of  the  moonlight  a  couple  of  playful  skunks. 


286      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

They  paid  no  attention  to  my  intrusion,  but 
went  on  playing  like  two  kittens.  But  when  I 
turned  over  in  bed  and  made  the  springs  squeak 
and  snap,  they  shot  out  from  under  that  cot  in  a 
hurry  and  made  for  the  grass  tussock.  As  they 
went  under,  they  were  joined  by  a  third  frolic- 
some companion  whose  presence  I  had  not 
suspected,  and  the  three  now  began  a  playful, 
hilarious,  spirited  skurrying  and  whisking  about 
under  the  grass  on  that  half-concealed  race- 
track. This  was  so  ludicrous  and  ridiculous  in 
its  manner  that  I  laughed  aloud.  Around  and 
around  they  went,  faster  and  faster,  faster  and 
faster,  like  boys  playing  tag,  until  suddenly  one 
of  the  skunks,  possessed  of  some  strange  new 
thought,  shot  off  the  grass-sheltered  track  at  a 
tangent,  only  to  be  followed  by  the  others,  into 
the  cat's-claw  bushes  and  up  the  hill.  Now  I 
understood  the  origin  of  that  mysterious  grass 
tunnel  and  judged  by  its  well-worn  appearance 
that  it  served  as  a  place  of  frequent  frolics. 

The  playfulness  of  the  spotted  skunk  is  well 
known  to  all  who  have  observed  it  much.  "I 
never  yet,"  said  an  old  prospector,  "saw  a 
little  phobic  skunk  [the  Western  spotted  skunk 


THE  SPOTTED  SKUNK  287 

is  often  referred  to  by  cowboys  and  prospectors 
as  the  "hydrophobia"  or  "phobie  skunk"] 
what  would  n't  play  with  you  if  it  just  had  a 
good  chance.  They  get  tame  just  like  a  kitten, 
and  it's  no  time  until  they're  crawlin'  all  over 
you  trying  to  make  you  play  with  'em.  Onc't 
I  had  a  little  cabin  made  of  palm  logs  and  it 
was  n't  very  extra  built,  so  that  it  had  a  num- 
ber of  cracks  in  it.  Now  it  beats  all  how  them 
little  phobie  cats  can  get  through  a  crack.  I 
had  n't  been  sleeping  inside  many  nights  until 
I  had  a  visit  from  a  skunk.  She  came  through  a 
crack  in  the  back  end  of  the  house  every  night 
after  that  at  just  about  dark.  I  got  to  feedin' 
her  bacon  scraps,  and  the  first  thing  I  knew  she 
was  lettin'  me  pat  her  a  bit  and  stroke  her  soft 
hair.  She  used  to  like  to  crawl  upon  my  head 
and  down  on  my  shoulder  —  and  then  jump, 
she  would,  square  into  my  lap,  and  then  race  up 
my  arm  to  the  top  of  my  head  again.  A  feller's 
hair  gets  powerful  long  a-stayin'  out  in  the 
desert  with  no  barbers  around,  and  that  little 
skunk  used  to  like  to  come  in  when  I  was  layin' 
down  on  my  bed  and  then  play  with  my  locks. 
And  when  she  had  a  batch  of  little  kittens, 


288      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

was  n't  she  proud  of  them !  She  brought  'em 
into  the  house  there  and  showed  'em  off  to  me 
like  the  proudest  mother  you  ever  saw.  And 
the  old  mother  skunk  and  the  kittens  used  to 
play  around  and  purr  and  I  'd  give  'em  stuff  to 
eat,  and  we  just  had  a  great  time  of  it,  tham 
skunks  and  I.  It  took  all  the  loneliness  out  of 
me,  and  I  never  will  fergit  'em.  Never  a  mouse 
did  I  have  around  the  place  so  long  as  they  was 
there.  Better 'n  old  cats,  they  are,  to  catch  mice 
any  time." 

My  friend,  Dr.  J.  H.  Kocher,  recently  told 
me  of  an  experience  in  the  open  that  further 
corroborates  the  prospector's  opinion  of  the 
playful  nature  of  skunks. 

"  Carl  Eytel  and  I  were  camping  out  near  the 
Keyes  Ranch  in  the  mountains  bordering  the 
Colorado  Desert  on  the  north,"  said  the  doctor. 
"The  sky  was  overcast  all  the  afternoon,  and 
toward  evening  it  began  to  drizzle  a  little,  so 
that  we  were  concerned  about  shelter.  As  luck 
would  have  it  some  trappers  who  were  camping 
in  the  vicinity  asked  us  to  spend  the  night  in  an 
extra  tent  they  had  near  their  camp  and  which 
they  were  not  using.  There  were  lots  of  things 


THE  SPOTTED  SKUNK  289 

piled  up  on  the  floor  in  a  sort  of  hit-and-miss 
fashion,  and  a  lot  of  dry  pelts  were  hanging  on  a 
wire  strung  lengthwise  beneath  the  ridgepole, 
but  we  managed  to  find  room  to  open  up  the 
two  spring  cots  which  were  offered  us.  Mr. 
Eytel  found  a  place  at  one  side  of  the  tent,  but 
the  only  place  for  me  was  in  the  center  just 
beneath  the  skins.  But  I  did  n't  mind  that; 
they  were  dry  and  odorless  and  hung  at  least 
six  or  eight  inches  above  my  head. 

"  Late  in  the  night  I  was  awakened  by  feeling 
some  animal  of  fair  size  crawling  over  my  sleep- 
ing-bag. I  couldn't  imagine  what  it  was,  but 
finally  decided  it  might  be  a  house  cat  belonging 
to  the  trappers.  As  best  I  could  in  my  tight 
sleeping-bag  I  kicked  about,  hoping  it  would 
leave  me  before  long,  when  presently  I  caught 
a  little  whiff  of  an  odor  that  told  me  it  was  a 
skunk.  I  called  to  Carl,  hoping  he  could  tell  me 
what  to  do  to  get  rid  of  the  animal.  His  only 
answer,  given  in  a  whisper,  was:  *  Better  keep 
still.'  So  I  did,  and  I  am  not  ashamed  to  say 
that  for  once  I  stuck  my  head  under  the  blan- 
kets. I  was  not  going  to  risk  my  nose  being 
bitten  by  a  skunk. 


290      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

"The  skunk  now  began  the  most  ludicrous 
set  of  contortions  and  dances,  stamping  and 
alternately  pounding  its  feet  on  my  breast  and 
rattling  and  playing  with  those  dry  pelts  above 
me.  It  would  have  been  nothing  but  funny  had 
it  kept  it  up  only  a  few  minutes,  but  when  a 
fellow  has  a  skunk  thumping  his  breast  for  a 
full  half-hour  it  becomes  not  only  monotonous, 
but  positively  nerve-racking.  I  again  stirred 
underneath  the  cover  hoping  that  the  creature 
would  move  off,  but  the  animal  was  so  absorbed 
in  its  play  with  those  dried  pelts  that  it  paid  no 
attention  to  my  movements  at  all,  keeping  up 
its  demoniacal  dance  just  the  same.  Unable  to 
bear  the  strain  longer,  I  called  to  Carl  to  chase 
off  the  creature  in  some  way,  but  again  he  only 
advised  me  to  'lay  low/  But  this  was  now  im- 
possible, and  I  called  to  the  trappers  for  aid. 
Providentially  they  soon  came  with  a  lantern, 
and  the  skunk,  alarmed  by  their  presence, 
moved  off,  her  beautiful  tail  hanging  gracefully 
above  her.  Before  morning  she  came  into  the 
tent  again,  but  did  not  bother  me.  When  I  ex- 
amined the  skins  next  morning,  not  a  single 
one  was  found  to  be  injured  or  ruffled  up  in  any 


THE  SPOTTED  SKUNK  291 

way.  The  skunk  had  had  a  bit  of  pure  play." 
I  never  eat  bacon,  but  once  in  a  while  some  of 
the  boys  who  come  to  see  me  bring  a  piece  along 
with  them,  and,  when  they  go  away,  leave  a  bit 
for  my  animal  friends.  Once  not  long  ago  when 
they  did  this,  the  odors  of  the  bacon  soon  drew 
my  skunk,  which  lives  under  the  house,  out 
from  her  hole.  She  came  about  dusk,  but,  find- 
ing me  in  the  house,  desisted  from  entering  just 
then.  As  soon  as  I  went  to  bed,  however,  she 
wiggled  through  a  big  crack  in  the  chimney 
and  found  the  delectable  meat.  I  heard  her  go 
in;  the  characteristic  wooden-legged,  waddling, 
shuffling  gait  was  unmistakable.  I  immediately 
got  up,  went  into  the  house,  and  lighted  the 
lamp.  There  was  my  skunk  on  the  shelf  with 
the  bacon  which  she  was  now  industriously 
chewing,  working  her  head  from  side  to  side, 
cat  fashion,  to  get  better  hold  with  her  sharp- 
pointed  molars.  As  I  approached  within  a  foot 
of  her  with  the  lamp,  she  seemed  dazed  for  a 
minute  or  two  by  the  bright  light.  Her  little 
round  jet  eyes  shone  with  much  luster  as  she 
looked  at  me.  Skunks  are  afraid  of  quick  move- 
ments, as  most  animals  are,  and  so  I  moved 


292      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

very  slowly  and  she  had  no  fear  of  me.  Soon  she 
resumed  her  eating,  stopping  once  in  a  while  to 
lick  the  grease  off  her  chops  and  hands.  A  lad 
who  was  staying  with  me  at  the  time  was  very 
eager  to  try  picking  the  creature  up  by  the  tail 
and  thus  carrying  her  out  of  the  house  head 
down,  having  heard  from  woodsmen  that  there 
is  no  danger  of  a  skunk  discharging  from  its 
scent  glands  in  this  position.  But  I  decided  to 
take  no  chances;  the  skunk  went  on  feeding  and 
we  to  bed  again. 

For  a  while  after  that  one  or  more  skunks 
came  every  night.  Sometimes  when  I  went  into 
the  shanty  to  watch  them  they  would  retreat  to 
a  corner  or  hide  in  the  closet,  and  watch  me 
with  their  beady,  black  eyes  from  behind  the 
curtain  to  see  what  I  was  up  to.  Once  one  hid 
in  the  closet  all  day.  Thus  far  my  furry  neigh- 
bors had  never  caused  any  disagreeable  odors 
in  the  house;  yet  I  became  uneasy  lest  on  some 
occasion  they  might  be  provoked  and  scent  up 
my  quarters.  Accordingly  I  nailed  up  all  the 
knot-holes  and  stopped  the  cracks,  and  espe- 
cially one  small  hole  in  the  closet  through 
which  they  most  often  entered. 


THE  SPOTTED  SKUNK  293 

Feeling  that  the  house  was  now  secure 
against  all  intruders,  I  went  to  bed  outside  at 
night  with  a  mind  at  ease.  About  midnight, 
soon  after,  I  was  awakened  by  something  crawl- 
ing on  my  covering  above  me.  It  was  moon- 
light, and  when  I  peeked  out  I  was  surprised  to 
find  a  little  spotted  skunk  perched  on  my 
blankets.  I  rose  up  a  foot  and  so  tilted  the 
surface  of  the  covers  that  the  animal  slid  off  to 
the  ground.  But  she  almost  immediately  came 
back,  this  time  crawling  upon  my  shoulder, 
whence  she  tried  to  jump  off  onto  the  low-eaved 
roof  of  my  house  by  which  I  was  sleeping.  In 
this  attempt  she  failed,  but  did  not  give  up 
until  she  tried  twice  again.  Persistence  is  one 
of  the  virtues  the  skunk  ever  possesses. 

The  climax  came  that  night  when  I  awoke 
feeling  the  skunk's  cold  nose  on  my  neck  and 
realized  that  she  was  trying  to  crawl  under  the 
covers  with  me.  This  was  undue  familiarity 
for  a  night  prowler,  and  I  quickly  drew  my 
head  under  the  covers  and  waited  until  my 
friend  decamped  to  the  other  side  of  the  house, 
as  she  soon  did. 

In   her  wanderings   that    night   the   skunk 


294      DENIZENS  OF  THE  DESERT 

finally  spied  out  how  to  get  up  on  the  roof  by 
climbing  onto  an  out-of-door  cupboard,  and 
when  next  I  saw  her  she  was  in  the  act  of  squeez- 
ing herself  through  an  unclosed  crack  up  under 
the  eaves  of  the  house,  a  place  I  hardly  ex- 
pected to  find  her.  Her  head,  half  her  body,  and 
front  feet  were  well  inside,  and  with  the  hind, 
long-soled  paws  she  was  scratching  vigorously 
on  the  boards  outside,  trying,  by  ludicrously 
wiggling  her  body  this  way  and  that,  to  work 
herself  inside  the  house.  Her  persistence  was 
rewarded  by  her  gaining  entrance,  and  she  got 
her  meal  of  crumbs  and  apples  as  usual. 
Through  the  same  opening  she  made  her  way 
out  before  morning.  Had  you  examined  the 
narrow  passageway  you  could  not  possibly  be- 
lieve the  animal  could  have  got  through  it. 
But  where  there  is  a  will  there  is  a  way,  even  in 
the  mind  of  a  skunk,  and  it  is  only  too  clever  in 
finding  it  out. 

THE  END 


INDEX 


INDEX 


Alverson,  A.  H.,  quoted,  51. 

Amargosa  Desert,  276. 

Amboy,  258. 

Ammospermophilus  leucurus.  See 
Chipmunk,  antelope. 

Anota  macalli.  See  Lizard,  flat- 
tailed  horned. 

Anthophora.    See   Bees,   mason. 

Ash  Meadows,  276. 

Auriparus  flaviceps.  See  Verdin. 

Baeria,  92. 

Bailey,       Florence        Merriam, 

quoted,  88. 

Banning,  Cal.,  169,  176. 
Barstow,  Cal.,  169. 
Beaumont,  Cal.,  176. 
Bees,  mason,  125-32. 
Beetle,  pinacate.   See  Eleodes. 
Bendire,     Major     Charles     E., 

quoted,  16,  17. 
Bighorn,  desert,  I35~42. 
Blake,  Prof.  William  P.,  113 
Blake  Sea,  113,  114. 
Bobcat,  157  n.    See  also  Lynx, 

desert. 
Brandegee,       Dr.       Katherine, 

quoted,  229-32. 
Bryant,    Dr.    Harold,    II,    277; 

quoted,  274,  277-79. 

Cactus,  barrel,  140,  227,  228. 
Cactuses,    used    for   protection, 

69.   See  also  Cholla. 
Cahuilla,  Cal.,  186. 
Callisaurus  ventralis.  See  Lizard, 

gridiron-tailed. 
Cants      ochropus      estor.       See 

Coyote. 
Gather pes  mexicanus  conspersus. 

See  Wren,  canon. 


Chaparral  cock.  See  Road- 
runner,  j 

Chapman,  Dr.  Frank  M.,  82. 

Chipmunk,  antelope,  97-105. 

Chipmunk,  round-tailed.  See 
Squirrel,  round-tailed  ground. 

Cholla  cactus,  Bigelow's,  32-34, 
69. 

Chuckwalla,  241-44. 

Citellus  tereticaudus.  See  Squir- 
rel, round-tailed  ground. 

Colorado  Desert,  113,  114. 

Colorado  River,  113. 

Comstock,  John  Henry,  269. 

Corn  Springs,  149. 

Coyote,  no,  in,  119,  120,  145- 
59;  and  jack  rabbit,  223-25; 
and  tapeworm,  230,  231  ;A  and 
desert  tortoise,  260,  261. 

Coyote  Canon,  213. 

Coyote  Holes,  273. 

Crotalus  cerastes.  See  Sidewinder. 

Gushing,  Frank,  quoted,  119, 
120. 

Death  Valley  Expedition,  276. 
Dog,  and  coyote,  158.  ; 

Dresser,  Mr.,  8. 

Eleodes,  117-22. 

Emerton,  James  H.,  quoted,  187. 

Epicampes    rigens.     See    Grass, 

squaw. 
Eytel,  Carl,  288-90. 

Flycatcher,  black-crested.  See 
Phainopepla. 

Gaillard,  Lieutenant,  62. 
Geococcyx     californianus.       See 
Road-runner.  . 


INDEX 


Oilman,  French,  83,  91,  92,  195; 

quoted,  195-98. 
Gnatcatcher,  black-tailed,  203, 

204. 

Gnatcatcher,  plumbeous,  201-04. 
Gopherus  agassizii.  See  Tortoise, 

desert. 
Grass,  squaw,  285. 

Hare,  black-tailed,  or  jack  rab- 
bit, 151,  223-32. 

Heleodytes  brunneicapittus.  See 
Wren,  cactus. 

Hornaday,  Dr.  William  T.(  34. 

Hydrophobia,  156,  157. 

Indian  Springs  Ranch,  214. 
Indians,  36,  243,  244,  260. 
Indians,  Cahuilla,  186,  187,  243. 
Indians,  Hopi,  36. 
Indians,  Zuiii,  folk-tale  of,  119, 

120. 

Johnson,  Mr,,  273,  274. 

Keyes  Ranch,  288. 

King,  Dr.  John  C,  quoted,  185, 

1 86. 
Kocher,  Dr.  J.  H.,  quoted,  288- 

90. 

Lactrodectus  mactans,  181-87. 
Lankester,     Sir     Edwin     Ray, 

quoted,  151,  152. 
Lederer,  Gus,  149. 
Lepus     californiciis     deserticola. 

See  Hare,  black-tailed. 
Lizard,  desert  horned,  273-80. 
Lizard,  flat-tailed  horned,  280. 
Lizard,    gridiron-tailed,    165-69, 

235-38. 
Lizards,  and  road-runner,  II,  12; 

and  snakes,  165-70.    See  also 

Chuckwalla. 

Lumholtz,  Karl  Sofus,  158. 
Lynx,  desert,  211-15. 

Mammoth  Wash,  250. 


Mearns,  Dr.  Edgar  A.,  31,  36, 

139. 
Merriam,  Dr.  C.  Hart,  quoted, 

242. 

Mesquite,  174,  175. 
Mistletoe,  174. 
Mouse,  spiny  pocket,  57-65. 

Neotoma  intermedia  desertorum. 
See  Rat,  pack. 

Opuntia.  See  Cholla. 
Ovis  cremnobates,  135  if. 
Ovis  nelsoni,  135-42. 

Palm  Springs,  82. 

Pasiano.  See  Road-runner. 

Pemberton,  J.  R.,  14;  quoted,  15. 

Pero^nathus  spinatus.  See  Mouse, 
spiny  pocket. 

Phainopepla,  173^78. 

Phoradendron  calif orniea,  174. 

Phrynosoma  platyrhinos.  See 
Lizard,  desert  horned. 

Polioptila  plumbea.  See  Gnat- 
catcher,  plumbeous. 

Rabbit,  jack.  See  Hare,  black- 
tailed. 

Rabbits,  pounding,  53.; 

Rabies,  156,  157. 

Ralston  Desert,  237. 

Rat,  pack,  trade,  or  wood,  25-53. 

Rattlesnake,  black,  169. 

Rattlesnake,  horned.  See  Side- 
winder. 

Rattlesnake,  pallid,  253. 

Rattlesnake,  tiger,  253. 

Rattlesnakes,  and  road-runner, 
16,  17;  and  wood  rat,  37;  and 
horned  lizard,  278,  279. 

Ridgway,  Dr.  Robert,  8. 

Road-runner,  3-21;  and  horned 
lizard,  278. 

Sacaton  Indian  Reservation,  83, 

91,  92. 
Sage,  thistle,  129. 


INDEX 


299 


Salpinctes  obsoktus.    See  Wren, 

rock. 

Salton  Sink,  250. 
San  Gorgonio  Peak,  121 «.         » 
Sand-lapper,  235. 
Sauromalus  ater:  See  Chuckwalla. 
Scorpion,  wind.  See  Vinegaroon. 
Shrike,  74. 
Sidewinder,  247-53;  and  pocket 

mice,  61. 

Skunk,  spotted,  283-94. 
Skunk,  striped,  285. 
Skunks,  pounding,  53. 
Snake,  gopher,  169,  170. 
Snake,  king,  165-69. 
Snake,  red  racer,  76,  169. 
Solpugid.  See  Vinegaroon. 
Sparrow,  desert  white-crowned, 

219,  220. 

Spider,  Latrodectus,  181-87. 
Spiders,  270. 
Spilogale   phenax.     See   Skunk, 

spotted. 
Spring,  49. 
Squirrel,  round-tailed  ground, 

109-14. 

Squirrels,  pounding,  53. 
Stejneger,  Leonhard,  275,  276. 
Stovepipe  Springs,  236. 


I  Tapeworm,  230-32. 
Thrasher,  Bendire,  92. 
Thrasher,  Le  Conte,  191-98. 
Toad,  horned.  See  Lizard,  desert 

horned. 
Tortoise,    desert,    or    Agassiz, 

257-64. 

Towhee,  Abert,  92. 
Toxostoma  lecontei.  See  Thrasher, 

Le  Conte. 
Tumble-bug.  See  Eleodes. 

Verdin,  204-08. 
Vinegaroon,  267-70. 

Whitewater    Ranch,    159,    195, 

196. 
Widow,  black.    See  Latrodectus 

mactans. 

Wind-scorpion.   See  Vinegaroon. 
Wren,  cactus,  69-76,  92. 
Wren,  canon,  or  white-throated, 

79-84. 
Wren,  rock,  9,  80,  83,  87-93. 

Zonotrichia  leucophrys  intermedia. 
See  Sparrow,  desert  white- 
crowned. 


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